Potentia Amoris
by Lux Aureus
Summary: Gangrel lies defeated, but the war for Ylisse has just begun. This story, focusing on the gaps in the story left by the missions of Fire Emblem: Awakening, sheds light on the male Avatar's personal life over the second half of the game.
1. Chapter 1

As the boom of magically-induced thunder tore through the skies over the Plegian wastes, Pyrrhus allowed himself a minute of respite. Gangrel's forces were crippled beyond hope, but the Mad King himself had yet to enter the fray. By ordering the group forward in a careful phalanx maneuver, Pyrrhus had allowed the enemy's winged cavalry to flank the group, but they were unable to find a weak spot to penetrate before the artillery could bring them down. Likewise with the men Gangrel had kept lying in ambush. No, the tactics employed by this foe were elegantly simple, and would have worked perfectly, except for one error. Gangrel had assumed that Chrom's anger would drive him into making a direct attack, charging into the fray without caution. Fortunately, Pyrrhus's voice of reason had prevailed over his furious friend, and now they were ready to move forward more carefully.

The group broke formation as they began the final charge towards Gangrel's position, but Pyrrhus remained at Chrom's side. With Sumia and Cordelia in the air above to make certain the path was clear, the two marched through waves of foes, cutting them down with their respective blades. Pyrrhus turned to Chrom.

"Tell me, Chrom, have you any plans for what to do when this is over?"

Chrom laughed harshly. "Haven't given it much thought. I hate to say it, but I've been quite consumed with seeing Gangrel's blood on Falchion."

"Understandable, I suppose," replied Pyrrhus. "Nevertheless, you are the rightful ruler of Ylisse. I assume there are responsibilities involved there."

"There are," Chrom agreed. "Let's talk about it later." He pointed Falchion at Gangrel. "First, I have a rabid dog to put down."

Pyrrhus nodded. "Aptly put. I shall follow your lead." He gripped his iron blade even tighter. Its simple make was no match for the legendary sword in Chrom's hands, but it still cut through foes plenty well.

Gangrel spotted the pair approaching at the head of their army, and shouted, from what Pyrrhus could gather, a number of expletives as well as commands for his men to converge on his position. Before they could, a pair of cavalry cut through their ranks, scattering the men who weren't trampled and wreaking further mayhem upon the battered Plegian force. A wide swath dropped weapons and began retreating, and Pyrrhus smiled at the beginnings of a rout. Those few who stayed were caught by the pegasi and slain, and in less than a minute Gangrel's force was reduced to less than a dozen.

And a dozen men would be far too few to stop Falchion's wrath.

Desperate, they charged at Chrom and Pyrrhus, but the two would not relent. Overzealous axemen swiped their hatchets with wild abandon and found themselves relieved of both weapons and limbs. Lances were hewn off at the handle, and finally Gangrel had no men to push between himself and his foes.

To his credit, Gangrel did not attempt to surrender without a fight. He drew a crooked blade and charged forward, holding it high and drawing lightning strikes from overhead. At last the pair were forced to separate, to divide into two targets for the blade rather than one. Chrom broke right, and Pyrrhus left, and they approached Gangrel from opposite sides.

Gangrel cackled insanely. "Come to me, the pair of you! I will crush you underneath my heel, just as I will crush Ylisse!"

"Your men have abandoned you, Gangrel. This can end only one way. You will not leave this battlefield alive," countered Pyrrhus. He slashed with his blade, but Gangrel parried it deftly.

"And who's going to kill me, little man? You?" Holding his blade aloft once more, Gangrel sent Pyrrhus scrabbling for cover from another bolt of lightning.

"I am!" Chrom shouted, letting the thrill of battle consume him. The prince took advantage of Gangrel's distraction in order to get close and strike a blow deep enough to draw blood.

Rather than reel from his injury, Gangrel spun around and laughed. "Ah yes, my prince! I sharpened this blade myself in the hope that it would be the one to take your life!" This time he didn't bother trying to summon forth lightning from the blade's magic, and instead leaped at Chrom to get the short blade an advantage against Falchion, and perhaps to find a chink in Chrom's armor to exploit.

Unfortunately for the pair, Gangrel's move was successful. Although Chrom's bare shoulder was convenient evidence of his royal ancestry, it was also an ideal target for the Mad King's attack, and his wicked blade cut through to the bone. Chrom cried out in pain, losing his grip on Falchion. But he did not falter entirely, pushing Gangrel off him and backing away a few steps.

As though she had known all along, Maribelle was behind Chrom, staff at the ready. Pyrrhus, standing again, knew he had to buy her a few seconds.

"Is that all you've got, Gangrel?" Pyrrhus asked mockingly. "I've been shocked worse taking off a wool sweater!"

Gangrel growled. "Ah, the other whelp wants some more. I'm more than happy to oblige!" He dashed forward, clearly attempting the same move he'd just used on Chrom, but Pyrrhus was ready. He crouched low, brought his sword out, and used Gangrel's forward momentum to drive his own blade deep in the king's leg while twisting out of the levin sword's reach. It was not a move he'd expected to work, but then improvisation had always served him well before.

Now bleeding heavily from two wounds and gasping for air, Gangrel was forced to pause. Bent over, his blood masked by the crimson of his royal garments, his injuries did not preclude him from further banter. "You two pests have been a thorn in Plegia's side for too long!"

Pyrrhus glanced at Chrom, who appeared to be almost healed. Just a bit longer. "Yeah, well _this_ thorn's going to... bring you... down!" Pyrrhus mentally reprimanded himself for not thinking before speaking. Still, his nonsensical statement did provoke Gangrel into renewing his assault.

Gangrel attacked furiously, desperately. Pyrrhus parried the attacks as best he could, but was unable to get an attack of his own through the onslaught. Gangrel shouted a stream of curses as he hacked away at the tactician's defense, to his downfall. Absorbed as he was in killing the man in front of him, Gangrel had forgotten about the one behind. Falchion sank into Gangrel's side, bringing him to the ground in one swing.

Pyrrhus scrambled away from the Mad King as Chrom pulled the blade from the man's side. The prince whispered two words, "For Emm," and then plunged Falchion through Gangrel's heart.

While the two had been fighting Gangrel, it seemed that the remnants of his army had been slain by the Shepherds. At least, those who hadn't already surrendered or fled. Pyrrhus sat on the ground and took a deep breath. It was over.

Chrom, having cleaned Falchion, sheathed the blade and walked over to Pyrrhus. He offered the tactician a hand, and Pyrrhus took it, climbing back to his feet.

"We really need to work on your war banter, Pyrrhus." Chrom smiled and laughed. Pyrrhus noticed, beneath the smile and relieved look, the glimmer of unshed tears.

"Never was my strong suit," Pyrrhus replied cheerfully.

* * *

It was after the ceasefire, after Flavia and Basilio discussed the battle's aftermath, that they really had a chance to catch their breath. Sully and Stahl rode up, giving each other pointers and comparing kills. Chrom congratulated them both. "Your timing was impeccable, both of you. Your charge there really helped isolate Gangrel. Don't think that would have worked without you."

Sully chuckled. "Aww, hell, Chrom. No big deal, besides, Pyrrhus was the one who planned the thing."

"Credit where it's due, Sully," replied Pyrrhus. "A lesser knight would have been slain."

"She's correct, Pyrrhus. We'd have never made it this far without you. You are an exemplary tactician. In fact, you're almost as good a tactician as you are a friend." Chrom drew his sword again. "Pyrrhus... kneel."

Pyrrhus squinted for a moment until he realized what was happening. He knelt before the prince and bowed his head. Chrom gently tapped each of his shoulders with the flat of Falchion's blade. "As thanks for your service to me, to the Shepherds, and to Ylisse, I grant you knighthood under Ylisstol. I charge you to be brave, just, and honorable. Rise... Sir Pyrrhus the Wise."

Pyrrhus stood. "Thank you, my lord. It will be an honor to continue my service to your realm. It is, after all, the only home I have ever known."

Stahl climbed down from his horse to shake Pyrrhus's hand, and Sully guffawed. "Welp, the prince is handing out promotions! Everybody line up!"

"That won't be necessary," replied Chrom, narrowing his eyes slightly at the cavalier. "Now then, what's next?"

"Captain!" At that moment, Sumia lighted her pegasus upon the ground and dismounted with surprising agility for one typically so clumsy.

"Sumia?" Chrom seemed surprised, which mostly left Pyrrhus exasperated. Chrom was good at many things, but he sure was blind sometimes.

"Oh, Captain, thank heavens you're safe!" She practically jumped into Chrom's arms.

Pyrrhus cleared his throat loudly in an attempt to notify Sumia of her audience. Flavia laughed and suggested that everyone give the pair a bit of privacy, and the rest of the group agreed emphatically, clearing out.

"Time for some of those royal duties," Pyrrhus muttered jokingly.

Sully apparently overheard from horseback, and laughed. "No kidding. Wonder if he'll get his head out of his ass this time."

Pyrrhus shook his head. "At least you don't have to hear him talk about her all the time. If I have to hear another word about the 'lovely way her hair blows in the wind' I'm gonna quit."

Sully laughed in earnest this time. "Oh, please. I've heard it all already! He talks to me during practice, you know. Worse still, I have to hear Sumia's side too. You should be thanking the gods you're not so friendly with her as I am; if you had to hear the crap she says about _him_, you'd try to claw your own ears off." She raised her voice an octave in a poor impersonation of Sumia's voice. "'So noble, so handsome, and those _abs!'_" She dropped back to her original tone. "Nightmarish."

The pair shared a laugh, but Pyrrhus came to a stop. "It's funny... all I can remember is this conflict with Plegia. Everything's going to change, isn't it?"

Sully stopped. "Well sure, but at least it'll change for the better."

"Then why do I feel so anxious?"

Sully shrugged. "You're kind of a pansy, maybe that's why. Which reminds me..." She trailed off as she reached around and drew a lance, then tossed it to Pyrrhus. "If you're going to be a knight of Ylisse, you're going to need one of these."

* * *

Thus did the victory celebration gain the added prestige of a royal engagement party. Flasks were uncorked, meat was roasted, songs were sung, toasts were offered. Frederick was caught weeping tears of joy at seeing his liege with the woman he loved, and much fun was had by all. Pyrrhus joined in with the rest, delighted to see his best friend so happy. News of his knighthood managed to spread despite the much more exciting news, and so he found himself shaking dozens of hands and sharing in a number of congratulatory hugs, not to mention the odd coordinated hand gesture that Vaike had attempted to show him. The party lasted late into the night, but in the wee hours, the group began to dissipate as individuals sought out the comfort of bedrolls. By three in the morning, only a handful remained.

Pyrrhus, noticing the party petering out, found himself a quiet corner table to read, oddly still awake. Gaius happened upon him and took a seat at the same table. Judging by the slight lack of coordination, as well as the several glasses of sherry he'd witnessed Gaius down, Pyrrhus estimated that the thief was a bit drunk.

"Hey Bubbles, still reading, I see. Profiterole?"

A bit tipsy himself and in no mood for sweets, Pyrrhus shook his head. "No thanks, I'm good."

"You're normally in bed by now, Bubbles. What's the deal?" Gaius took a bite of the cream puff and then grabbed a napkin to catch the whipped cream that leaked out the sides.

"Can't sleep," Pyrrhus replied, closing the book. "I should be tired, wine tends to make me sleepy. But not tonight."

Gaius finished the puff in a second massive bite and leaned back contemplatively. "Huh."

"How 'bout you?" Pyrrhus asked. "You normally awake this late?"

Gaius smiled. "People in my... line of work... keep late hours." He wiped his hands on the napkin and dropped the crumpled cloth on the table. Then he reached into his bag for a hard candy, which he unwrapped and popped into his mouth. "If you've got something on your mind, you can feel free to talk about it. Nobody here but us chickens, and we've got many a secret already between us."

Pyrrhus narrowed his eyes. "You say that, but I just can't help but feel like we're being watched. Know what I mean?"

Gaius nodded. "Now that you mention it, you're right."

"Ahem." Pyrrhus and Gaius turned in unison to the ironclad man who appeared before them. "You two talking about me?"

"Kellam!" Pyrrhus shouted, then returned to the hushed tone they'd been using, so as not to disturb anyone else. "When'd you get here?" The knight's plain face was unusually red; he must also have had quite a few.

Kellam sighed. "I've been here the whole time. You sat down right next to me."

"Oh. Right."

Gaius sighed. "You know, if I had your skill, Kellam, I'd be the richest man in Ylisse. You really ought to consider putting that to better use."

Kellam shook his head. "No, Gaius. With great power comes great responsibility. I could never use my ability for evil."

"What about eavesdropping?" Pyrrhus asked sarcastically.

Kellam opened his eyes wide, thought for several seconds, then held up his index finger to emphasize his point. "Err, well, more of a grey area. Regardless, you have my word that I'll keep mum on whatever you have to say." He put his index finger to his mouth and smiled.

Pyrrhus laughed. "Whatever. Doesn't matter, I don't really know why I'm not sleepy, I guess I've just got a lot on my mind."

Suddenly, Gaius smiled. "Ah, I know what you need. When we get back to town, I know a few places we can go, meet some nice ladies. They'll clear your mind, I promise!"

Pyrrhus balked. "Oh, gods no! You're talking about..." Pyrrhus looked around to make sure nobody else was around, then lowered his voice to a whisper. _"Prostitutes!"_

Gaius bit down on the hard candy in his mouth with a hard crunch. "That won't be necessary. We're _heroes_, Bubbles! We head to any pub in Ylisse with your story of ending the Mad King, it might as well be a free pass into a woman's smallclothes! Besides, you bet your ass Chrom's getting him some, and soon. Nothing wrong with us lesser heroes getting a little reward too."

"I'm done with this conversation. To hell with this farce, I'm going to bed." Pyrrhus set aside his book and stood to walk away while Gaius continued.

"Or maybe Bubbles already has the hots for some lady in our midst! Maybe Maribelle? She's got class, but she's a little out of your league."

Kellam, surprisingly enough, jumped in. "Perhaps Cordelia? She's quite comely."

Pyrrhus clenched his fist. "You too, Kellam? Really?"

Gaius ignored Pyrrhus. "Good point, Kellam, but I'm not sure if she'd be interested. Certainly she's too pretty for him. Who else? Panne maybe?"

"We know Tharja's quite consumed with him. If he were interested there, I doubt there'd be any difficulty. And she's very... well-endowed."

"I hate you both."

"Just as long as it's not Nowi," Gaius said mockingly. "I don't even want to think about how that would work."

"For the last time, my problem isn't... _frustration!"_ Pyrrhus insisted between clenched teeth, lacking a better euphemism. "I just can't help but feel like something's still _wrong!"_

Dropping the mocking tone, Gaius and Kellam both stood up.

"Look, Bubbles. I can't remotely know what you're going through with the whole memory thing. But whatever's going to happen, I'm sure you can handle it. And if you can't, we're all here to help."

"Exactly," Kellam agreed. "You may not have parents or siblings, but you've got the Shepherds. We're your family." He gave Pyrrhus a pat on the shoulder with a gauntlet-clad hand. "Everything's going to be fine."

Pyrrhus sighed. "Thanks, guys. I appreciate it. And you know what? I'm starting to feel a bit tired. I think I'll turn in."

"Sure thing," Gaius replied. "Just one quick thing. It's Anna, isn't it?"

Pyrrhus growled, broke away from the other two, and hurried to his tent while Kellam and Gaius shared a chuckle.

* * *

**AN:** That's chapter one. I was having a difficult time determining where to start this, but I think I got a good spot. This fiction will mostly be covering the periods in between battles of the main game. I'm intending something like ten chapters but don't hold me to that; I haven't quite finished planning everything out. Just a couple of quick things.

First off, I really don't like the name Robin, especially on a man. Instead, I took inspiration from ancient history (hint: that happens a lot) and named the tactician after Pyrrhus of Epirus, one of the few generals of antiquity worthy of mention in the same breath as Hannibal and Alexander the Great. Secondly, I haven't settled on the pairing for the Avatar for this story (except that Sumia's out, obviously). I understand that Avatar/Lucina is pretty popular, but I have a few other ideas as well. If you have a compelling argument, feel free to mention it if you review. Last but not least, I've taken some creative liberties with the dialogue thus far, and will continue to do so. It bothers me a little when an author attempts to shoehorn the game's existing dialogue into their own plots for the sake of consistency. The plotline will remain roughly the same, but the individual supports and conversations are likely to change.

Oh, one final thing. The title of the story, "Potentia Amoris," is Latin for "The Power of Love." Those of you who aren't as nerdy as I am won't recognize that as the theme song of the 80's sci-fi classic _Back to the Future_ sung by Huey Lewis and the News, but anyone who's beaten the game knows that the song works equally well as the theme to this game. Just thought you should know.


	2. Chapter 2

Two years of peace and prosperity followed that celebration, two years in which Ylisse flourished under its new ruler and his bride. Pyrrhus found his role with the Shepherds relegated to developing plans for the still-occasional Risen attacks. He spent his time in the castle court, offering counsel to Chrom when asked but otherwise focusing on his studies. The feeling he'd had that night, that something was still wrong, never left him. He spent two years growing older and wiser, so that, when the other shoe dropped, he would be ready.

And so Pyrrhus was sitting in his castle chambers reading when Chrom came to see him one morning.

Pyrrhus opened the door to let his lord enter. "Morning, Chrom. What can I do for you?"

Chrom took a few steps into the room, but he didn't sit down. "Pack your things, old friend. It seems Ylisse will have need of your skills once more." It was a rather mundane room. Rough-hewn wooden furniture, a simple bed, two chairs and a table with an oil lamp. However, a number of bookcases covered most of the wall space, giving the place the feel of a man's study more than his bedroom. A simple rug covered the center of the floor, and it was perhaps the room's only "homey" touch.

Pyrrhus sighed. So soon. "More trouble with Plegia, my lord?"

"No, they're still keeping quiet. This is a new threat. What do you know of Valm?"

"Not more than the next man. I'm afraid that my historical research has mostly been looking into my past over these last few years. My study of geography and world history is somewhat more limited."

Chrom nodded, leaning against the wall between two bookcases. "It's the continent across the sea. Seems someone called the Conqueror has his eyes on Regna Ferox."

"Ah," replied Pyrrhus. "Well, Ferox certainly came to our aid two years ago. It would be an honor to assist them in their time of need." He walked over to the table and closed the book he'd been reading, put out the lamp, and began packing up a small knapsack. "I can be ready in a few hours, sir."

Chrom smiled. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but the army will need more time than that. I'm mobilizing the Shepherds, as well as Ylisse's existing military, to answer this threat. But even aside from that, you'll need more than a few hours. You still need to get your armor."

Pyrrhus coughed in surprise. "Really now, that's not necessary. I don't see why I can't stick with this old coat, it's never let me down in the past."

Chrom laughed. "We've had this talk, Pyrrhus. You've put this off far too long as it is. If you're going to be a knight of Ylisse, you have to look the part. And you'll also have to pass the knighthood examination." He stood up straight once more. "Once your things are packed, head down to the armory. I sent a messenger ahead to let them know to expect you."

Pyrrhus sighed in resignation. "If you insist, sir."

Chrom clapped Pyrrhus on the shoulder. "I told them to go easy on you. You'll do fine."

* * *

Several hours later, Pyrrhus found himself down in the armory, saying hello to people he'd not seen in well over a year. He was led right away to the blacksmith, who took a few measurements and then shooed him away.

As the door closed behind him, a familiar face approached. "Pyrrhus!" shouted Frederick. "I see you're here for your examination."

"That's right," agreed Pyrrhus.

"Well, the first thing to do is to get you up to snuff with a lance," Frederick continued. "Head out onto the pitch, I've got an old friend there waiting. Once you're done with that, the blacksmith should be done fitting your armor and we can start the examination. Shame you waited so long, this really isn't the time to be learning a new weapon with us on the march tomorrow."

"I know," Pyrrhus replied. He was angry at his own procrastination. If he'd done all this two years ago, he'd have been a capital knight and been ready to charge into battle alongside the other cavalry. As it was, he'd be more hindrance than help in a straight fight.

He turned to say something else to Frederick, only to find that the knight had already gone. Looking to a nearby weapons rack, he found a blunted wooden training lance and leaned it against his shoulder, then walked out to the training pitch.

Little had changed from the first time he'd seen the place, only it was a bit more busy. The ground was contained within the walls of Ylisstol, and a short wall surrounded the compound itself. A number of canvas tarps provided shade over benches and barrels of practice weapons like the one in his hand. Six square arenas had been marked out by stakes for combat practice, most of which were currently occupied. Farther back, a path led out to the stables and a jousting line. At the far end of the place, right near the wall, Pyrrhus could see a number of training dummies and targets used for artillery practice. Several of the dummies were attached to a curious mechanism that allowed a third party to move them, simulating a moving target on the battlefield. The place was crowded, however: a good number of familiar faces, most of them Shepherds, alongside even more of Ylisse's regular army. It made for quite the chaotic mess.

The tactician looked around a bit for his training partner before a waving hand caught his eye. He recognized it immediately. "Ah, Cordelia!" he returned the wave and walked over to her, where she'd gathered some equipment by one of the demarcated arenas. "I suppose you're the one who'll be running me through lancing?"

"That's right." She nodded and smiled. She was certainly beautiful, Pyrrhus felt comfortable admitting. She wore the same pegasus knight armor she always wore, and leaned casually against another training lance. Her hair was the longest he'd seen on any woman, and her face was immaculate. It was a mystery to Pyrrhus why she had not yet been married.

Or rather, perhaps it wasn't. Her attraction to Chrom was the worst-kept secret in the Shepherds: Chrom himself was the only person that didn't seem to know.

Cordelia picked up a large bundle of leather and tossed it to Pyrrhus. "Here, you'll want to put this on." It was a training harness, designed to protect the torso and popular striking points from injury. It wouldn't stop a real weapon, of course, but the blunted training weapons wouldn't cause any harm to a person wearing one. Pyrrhus quickly pulled the device on and fastened the straps tightly, and Cordelia assisted with a few that were out of easy reach. When it was secure, she knelt down and picked up a helmet to put on his head. Like the training harness, it wasn't a full helm. A metal skullcap covered layered leather and cloth, with a leather strap that ran under the chin to hold it secure. When it was all done, Pyrrhus gave himself a once over.

"Tell me I don't look half as silly as I feel." He'd never worn the things before. His skill with the sword was more or less intuitive, and by the time he had first visited Ylisstol he was proficient enough to keep using his regular gear in practice. Right now, he felt more like a swaddled infant than a capable warrior.

Cordelia stifled a laugh. "You look ready for training." She picked up the lances that had fallen to the ground during dressing, and handed one to Pyrrhus. "Now then, I'm sure you understand the basics of lance combat. Why don't we just practice a bit and I'll coach you, and we'll see how you get along?"

Pyrrhus nodded agreement. "Sure." He took hold of his weapon and made an awkward dash for her, which she parried with ease, ducking to his left.

"Widen your stance, try again."

He did as she instructed, taking several steps forward to build up some momentum to transfer to the lance point. Again, she maneuvered gracefully around his attack, this time bringing her own lance to bear against him and clattering the side against his elbow. "Elbow out, keep the point of the lance up. Again."

This continued for what Pyrrhus assumed to be about an hour, judging by the change in the sun's position. It felt like an eternity, inside the claustrophobic harness that had grown damp and heavy with his sweat. Cordelia was breathing a bit heavily but otherwise seemed absolutely fine when she called for a break. Pyrrhus walked over to the water barrel and, resisting the urge to dunk his entire head in, merely tore off his helmet and poured a cupful of cool, clean water over his head. Brushing the water through his hair with one hand, he took another cupful and drank greedily.

Cordelia clapped him on the back. "Easy now, you'll make yourself sick."

Pyrrhus struggled a bit adjusting his harness, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a minute bag, which he tilted slightly into his cup of water. A sprinkle of white powder poured into the cup before he pulled back, folded the bag shut, and returned it to his pocket.

"What was that?" Cordelia asked.

"Salt," he replied, taking another draft of water.

She smiled. "Clever. Probably tastes vile though."

Pyrrhus nodded, mouth too full of water to talk. He chugged the rest, swallowed, and then set the cup down. "Well then, shall we?"

They walked back to their arena, and Cordelia decided to try something new. "Okay then, I feel like you've got the basics down. Just try and hit me, okay?"

"Got it." Trying to remember all the advice she'd given, he strapped his helmet back on and attacked her again. This time, when she swerved out of the way, she brought her own lance up and caught him in the stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

Pyrrhus stumbled back several steps. "I thought I was the one who was supposed to hit you."

Cordelia laughed. "I never said I wasn't going to hit you back."

"Right." This continued for several minutes as Pyrrhus made more attacks, each one more desperate than the last, and each one rewarded with a punishing strike and a new bruise. Finally, he attacked and she countered by swinging her lance at his knee and knocking him onto his back.

"You surrender?" she asked teasingly.

Pyrrhus remained on his back for several seconds thinking. He was far too stubborn to give up without landing a single hit on his opponent, but if that was going to happen, he'd need to fight smart. He came up with an idea and rolled over to clamber back to his feet.

"So, Cordelia, we haven't really had a chance to talk since the Plegian War. How're you doing?" He made several careful feints, keeping his guard up to deflect any retribution.

"Alright. Done a bit of recruiting for the aerial division, I've been training quite a few new recruits."

"Oh, good. And how's your friend, Sumia?"

Cordelia frowned slightly. "She is well, as I'm certain you know." She struck out with her lance, but Pyrrhus managed to sidestep out of the way. "After all, you probably see the queen more often than I."

"Oh, right. How foolish of me." Perhaps this had a chance of working after all. "Just gave birth to Chrom's firstborn, little girl named Lucina. Have you seen her yet? Looks just like her father."

"I have," she replied, with just a hint of curtness indicative of jealousy.

Time to strike home. "Say, you ever wonder why he picked her over you? I mean, no offense to Sumia, but you seem a lot more... well, everything."

Cordelia let out the heaviest sigh that Pyrrhus had ever heard, and he took it as a chance to move in. "Yahah!"

Cordelia casually deflected the strike, spun around, and smacked him on the head with her lance tip. "Nice try."

Pyrrhus dropped his lance and clutched at his head. "Damn it!"

Cordelia set her lance down and walked over. "In the future, you should know that won't work on me."

Pyrrhus suddenly dropped to the ground, spun his right leg to catch her left behind the kneecap, and pulled back to bring her down, while simultaneously grabbing for his lance and bringing it to bear against her. With their legs tangled together, Pyrrhus leveled the tip of his lance at her neck. "Yield."

Cordelia smiled, despite herself. She glanced back at her own lance, well out of arm's reach. "Okay, that was pretty clever, I'll admit. But that won't work in a real battle with our enemies."

"Which would matter if this _were_ a real battle and you _were_ my enemy," Pyrrhus retorted. "But it isn't, and you aren't, so it does. Yield."

"Fine. I yield."

Pyrrhus pulled the lance away and loosened his legs so that they could untangle themselves and get back to their feet. "Nice work," Cordelia said again. "How'd you think of that?"

"Well, it's not like Chrom keeps me around here for my good looks and lancing skill," Pyrrhus replied sarcastically, dusting himself off. "So do we keep going or what?"

Cordelia straightened out her armor. "I think we're done for now. Your armor should be ready, and then you can meet up with the rest of the soldiers out front and Frederick will see about your exam."

"Sure. Hey, thanks for the help. At least now, even if I'll be covered in bruises, I'll stand a chance at this thing."

"Don't worry about it," she demurred. "You'd better get going." She helped loosen the harness so Pyrrhus could climb out.

Pyrrhus started walking back inside, but turned around. "Oh, and I'm really sorry about the whole... thing. All that stuff I said. I didn't mean it, I was just-"

"Apology accepted."

"You ever want to talk, my door's always open, you know. I certainly owe you a favor or two."

"Thank you." The words were curt, final. Pyrrhus left.

* * *

"You have _got_ to be kidding me." Pyrrhus examined the armor the blacksmith had made for him. "What were you told?"

"They said to fit 'a knight's armor,' so that's what I did," the muscular, bearded man bellowed gruffly. "You got problems, take it up with Sir Frederick."

Pyrrhus shook his head. "No no no, I'm certain that when they said 'knight' they meant the 'mounted' kind. I can't wear this, I can barely _lift_ it!"

The blacksmith, however, quite busy, ignored him and started to work on another piece.

Pyrrhus growled. "Fine, I'll settle this." He briefly pondered how he was going to carry such a weight of metal to prove the misunderstanding, and realized that the best way would be to actually wear it.

Perhaps that would be better, he reasoned. He would walk out there, in this, and pretend like nothing was wrong. After all, he didn't want to be a complainer. Surely Frederick and the rest would notice the mistake right away and come right in here and straighten things out.

He laboriously donned the cumbersome infantry armor and got a nearby stranger to help tighten the parts he couldn't reach. Then, shield and lance in hand, he waddled out to the parade ground where most of the non-magically inclined Shepherds were gathered.

Pyrrhus pretended not to notice the few snickers, mostly from Vaike and Gaius, as he lined up with the rest all the way at the far end next to Sully. They were standing at ease, and Frederick was in front of them, having a hushed conversation with Chrom. Whatever they were discussing, they finished it up, and Frederick turned to address the Shepherds.

"Attention!" Silence fell over the Shepherds as they all stood up straight and listened.

"Now then, I'm sure you've all heard, we march for Regna Ferox in the morning. But right now, we have another matter to attend to."

"You ready?" Sully whispered to Pyrrhus. He shook his head no.

"One of our number is to take the knighthood examination today, and might I say it's about time." Frederick looked down the line until he spotted Pyrrhus at the end. "Ah, there you are! Step forward!"

Pyrrhus tried desperately not to look incredulous as he took a step forward. Either Frederick was blind, or... this wasn't a mistake.

"Very good! Now then, this one wishes to join the Knights of Ylisse! Who would stand against him, that he might prove his mettle?"

Sully guffawed, and Frederick's eyes flew to her. "Do I hear a volunteer?"

"No, sir," she replied seriously.

"I think you'd be an excellent choice, Sully," he insisted.

"Me too, except for one thing." Sully prodded Pyrrhus with the blunt end of her lance, and he lost his balance and fell over on his back.

Pyrrhus struggled to right himself, having to roll back and forth to gain enough momentum to put himself over on his side.

"I don't fight turtles, sir." Sully's joke caused a great deal of laughter from the Shepherds at the tactician's expense. She offered Pyrrhus a hand up as a gesture of goodwill, but Pyrrhus, too proud for his own good, brushed it aside as he stood up without help.

The laughter died with a stern look from Frederick. "Is there nobody who would challenge this candidate knight?"

Stahl stepped forward. "I'll volunteer," he said without emphasis.

Frederick nodded. "Very well then. Pyrrhus, Stahl, step forward and take your weapons."

The two of them approached Frederick, who handed each a lance. They were not training implements; the tips were sharpened metal. Pyrrhus gulped as he examined the tip, then turned and walked to the spot that Chrom indicated for him to stand. He barely felt a pat on the back from Chrom. "You'll be fine," he muttered.

Pyrrhus reached the spot and turned around. Stahl was already at his mark, with Frederick standing midway between them but several feet back. "Begin!" the knight shouted, and Stahl and Pyrrhus both moved forward to engage.

"Listen, Pyrrhus, no hard feelings, alright?" Stahl asked.

"I know, Stahl, this isn't your fault, you're just doing what you're supposed to do." Pyrrhus sighed. Stahl may have been merely 'average' amongst the group as a warrior, but he was still an excellent hand with a spear. The tactician stood approximately no chance.

Stahl charged at Pyrrhus, who clutched shield and lance tightly and braced for an impact. He tried not to wince as the sharpened lance neared.

A gentle push and a scraping noise were the only indications that Stahl's lance had hit. Pyrrhus barely noticed.

"Huh." Pyrrhus tilted his head to one side. Stahl struck again, and the sound of metal striking metal resounded through the air. Still, Pyrrhus didn't feel it. Stahl struck several more times, not once causing Pyrrhus even remote pain. The tactician narrowed his eyes. "Wait, is that really the best you can do?"

Stahl gasped. "It's tougher than it looks, man!"

As if a switch had flipped on in his head, Pyrrhus suddenly realized what was going on. He'd seen enemy knights and Kellam handle attacks like this all the time. Now, he wasn't any different. Without the momentum of a charging horse behind it, Stahl's lance couldn't do much against a man in such steel. At once, Pyrrhus felt a renewed vigor. "All right, let's do this!" He took his shield in hand and hurried towards Stahl. When the cavalier attempted to jab him again, he used the shield to knock the lance aside and close the distance between them. Forgoing lance altogether, Pyrrhus curled his gauntleted right hand into a fist and belted Stahl in the side, right between the plates of the man's much lighter armor. Stahl groaned and fell forward, down to his knees.

Pyrrhus grabbed the man by his pauldrons and lifted him up. "You want to keep going?" Stahl shook his head no.

"The winner!" shouted Frederick, walking over to the pair. "This man has proven himself worthy of the title Sir Pyrrhus the Wise!" Chrom ambled over.

"What'd I tell you?" he asked Pyrrhus. "No sweat."

"No sweat," Pyrrhus replied.

* * *

Later that night, after dinner, most of the Shepherds returned to the barracks, but Pyrrhus returned to his room instead. He had forgotten a few books he'd meant to pack, and was pulling them down from the bookshelf when he heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," he commanded.

The door opened, and he turned to see Cordelia walk in. "Ah, what can I do for you?" Pyrrhus asked.

"Yes, well, you said if I ever wanted to talk, I should feel free to come see you."

"Right." Pyrrhus mentally winced. Certainly he didn't mind helping Cordelia, but helping her sort out man problems would be all kinds of unpleasant. "Have a seat. Would you like something to drink? Water? I'm sure there's a wineskin around here somewhere..."

He began digging through his cluttered bookshelves, but Cordelia replied with a calm "No, thank you. I'm fine." She pulled out the second chair and sat down while Pyrrhus seated himself at the opposite side of the table.

"Okay, well, what's on your mind?" Pyrrhus unconsciously held his breath.

"It's that... well, just now, Frederick asked if I would take over Phila's role as head of the royal pegasus knights."

It took all of Pyrrhus's might not to sigh in relief. "Well then, congratulations! I can't think of a woman more suited for the job." He began to offer her a handshake, but he noticed her downtrodden face. "Or is this not a cause for celebration?"

"He said that Phila had been grooming me to be her successor anyway, before... you know."

"Of course." Pyrrhus could hardly forget the day of his greatest failure as a tactician, the cascade of errors that resulted in the death of most of the royal pegasi knights, not to mention the Exalt. "So that's your concern. You feel uncomfortable about filling in for her, don't you?"

Cordelia nodded.

Pyrrhus thought for a moment. "I can understand how you'd have mixed feelings about this, Cordelia."

"It just... brings back memories. Past that I thought I'd left buried. All my comrades who gave their lives so that I could warn Emmeryn, and all for nothing. When... when the Exalt decided to return to the capital and Phila attached me to the Shepherds, it just confirmed what I'd felt when I fled this place to warn you all." The first tear dripped upon the steel of her breastplate.

Pyrrhus stood and walked over to her. He pulled her up and held her as she cried into his shoulder. "It's all right, Cordelia."

"I don't even know why I'm here, I just didn't know where else to go. I was wandering the castle, and I remembered your offer from earlier..." She squeezed him tightly.

They stood like that for a while as Pyrrhus let her cry for a bit. When she seemed to be calming down, he pulled her away a bit. "The pegasus knights need a leader, Cordelia. It would have made Phila very happy to see you take her position. You're far and away the best pegasus knight in Ylisse, probably the most capable Shepherd too."

She pushed herself away from him. "Come now, be serious."

Pyrrhus chuckled. "I am. Gods know we wouldn't be here today without you keeping track of the Shepherds' supplies. And I doubt I'd have been made a full knight today without your help. If you're _half_ the woman I think you are, you're qualified for the job. Nobody can really fill Phila's shoes, but there is nobody more equal to the task than you."

Cordelia looked down at the ground. "That is a very nice thing to say. I understand why Chrom and the others think so highly of you."

Pyrrhus blushed. "Don't mention it. That's what friends are for."

Cordelia sniffled a bit, and Pyrrhus scrambled for a handkerchief. He found one in the inside pocket of his coat and handed it to her, and she blew her nose. "Thanks," she said. "You're right, Pyrrhus. I'm going to go tell Frederick that I accept, so long as I can remain a Shepherd." She started to hand him back the handkerchief, but pulled back. "Why don't I get this cleaned for you? It's the least I can do."

Pyrrhus tried not to smile. "That would be nice. And you might want to take a damp cloth to your eyes, help bring down the puffiness."

She put the cloth in her pocket and turned to leave. "Thank you again for the talk, Pyrrhus."

"Any time."

As she closed the door, it occurred to Pyrrhus that he'd never really comforted anyone like that before, at least, not that he could remember. Briefly he wondered if he'd done everything right, but he had no way of knowing. He resolved that Cordelia had felt better afterwards, and she'd made up her mind, so it was likely that he'd done at least a decent job. He spotted a wineskin up on the top shelf of one of his bookcases, grabbed it, sat down, and poured himself a glass. He remembered the feeling of her beating the tar out of him earlier that day, how he'd finally turned the tables on her, and then the feeling of comforting her while she wept.

"Uh oh."

* * *

**A/N: **At this point, it should be pretty clear where I'm headed with the romance. Thanks for the two reviews and the multiple follows! I was leaning between Cordelia and Lucina, for reasons which will become more obvious. There's already too many Avatar/Lucina stories here though, so this works out better. I also have... narrative issues... with Avatar/Lucina, which I'll probably get into later. The greatest roadblock I have with a Cordelia romance is named Severa, and that's just because I'm not sure I'll be any good at writing her character.

This is pretty much how I imagine a "class change" would work. I like the switch to knight for several reasons. First off, in-game it's a wonderful pairing with a pegasus knight since they tend to bolster each other's weakness. It also suggests a certain status, which I think is something that the Avatar would realistically expect to receive. The Avatar is there for most of these big important meetings (even ones that I've left him out of in this story) which suggests to me that he's at least one of Chrom's closest advisers. That sort of status practically demands a title of some kind. Making him a cavalier would necessitate training in mounted combat, which in this story Pyrrhus didn't consider and would absolutely take several years to learn before it could be put to use on the battlefield. And of course, the promoted version of the Knight is the General, which is more or less the Avatar's actual role amongst the Shepherds.

Reviews are like gasoline on the fire that is this story!


	3. Chapter 3

Unfortunately, Pyrrhus found himself with ample time to consider the depths of his predicament during the march to Regna Ferox. It was a journey of several days, worsened on the first by the ache of every muscle in his body from the prior day's training. He did find that, after getting a bit used to the armor, it was not nearly as cumbersome as he had first thought. The weight of the armor was distributed evenly on his frame, so that even though it was rather heavy, it didn't feel like it. By the time they'd reached their destination, Pyrrhus felt adequately adjusted to the armor to join in battle.

Perhaps the worst part was Cordelia herself. She lighted upon the ground to join with the group frequently (although pegasi could remain aloft for extended periods of time, it was quite tiring, especially while carrying a rider) and spent some of her time with Pyrrhus. At first it was fine, she thanked him for his assistance the night before, showed him the helm that denoted her new rank (a brim of brilliant blue plumage differentiated it from the standard pegasus knight helm). Conversation moved on to more mundane topics, the balance of javelins and such, but despite Pyrrhus's attempts to keep the conversation casual, it was impossible to miss the gentle _sigh_ that emerged from her lips each time she caught sight of Chrom.

Nevertheless, all things do end, and so too did the march. They arrived at Castle Ferox on the evening of the third day, and there they were re-introduced to Duke Virion of Rosanne and met his retainer, Cherche. They discussed Valm's impending attack and the importance of securing Feroxi harbors if they were to fight back.

The following morning, the Shepherds departed from Castle Ferox for the nearest Feroxi harbor, which scouts had believed would be Valm's first target. This time, with the threat real rather than ephemeral, there was little chatter in the marching formation. Pyrrhus found some reprieve, then, except that he was now consumed by his own thoughts, and the anxiety of knowing that his plans would soon be put to iron.

When they approached the harbor, fleeing innocents informed them that they were late: a Valmese ship had made landfall an hour prior and was claiming the harbor in the name of the Conqueror. Chrom called a halt and gathered the Shepherds together to talk at a cliffside with a decent view of the docks.

"We're only going to get one chance at this, everyone," he said somberly. "The harborfolk say that Valm wasn't taking prisoners, so there's no concern for negotiating."

Sumia, who had been in the air scouting, spoke up. "Looks to be roughly fifty men, all told. One captain, two lieutenants."

Chrom turned to the tactician. "Pyrrhus, you have a plan?"

Looking over the harbor scene, he thought aloud. "Lots of tight corridors, easy to limit our engagements. Focus on heavy cavalry should be disadvantageous... okay, here's the plan." He raised his voice so that everyone could hear him. "Heavy infantry form ranks, use the pallets of supplies to prevent cavalry flanks. Meanwhile, our own heavy cavalry can puncture their lines and disrupt their forces, but for that to work, we'll need to take out the lieutenants to limit their response. Our own cavalry charge should be sufficient to break their ranks, at which point the infantry and artillery can board and capture the Valmese ship."

"Those lieutenants will be guarded, Pyrrhus. How do you suggest we handle them?" Chrom asked.

Pyrrhus took a deep breath. "Sumia and Cordelia, you two can each carry a soldier. Two Shepherds should be more than enough to handle a lieutenant and his guards."

"Right," agreed Chrom. "I'll ride with Sumia and handle the western lieutenant, Cordelia can take the one to the east."

"No, wait!" Pyrrhus shouted. "You and Sumia can't ride together."

Chrom chuckled. "And why not?"

Pyrrhus stood agape. "Because I cannot risk a wayward arrow killing both the king and queen! If you must ride, then I insist you be carried by Cordelia!"

Chrom clapped Pyrrhus on the shoulder. "Not going to happen, my friend. Sumia and I can take care of ourselves. I'm riding with her, and that's final." Without allowing Pyrrhus a rebuttal, he climbed onto Sumia's pegasus behind her, and the two took to the air.

"By all means, ignore the wishes of the _man whose job it is to keep you alive!"_ he shouted at nobody in particular. He growled angrily, mentally reworking his plans to adjust to the change. Distracted as he was, he didn't notice another conspicuous _sigh_ from behind him.

"You ready, Pyrrhus?" The tactician turned around and nearly collided with Cordelia's pegasus.

"Gah!"

"Sorry, thought you knew I was here. Anyway, let's go!"

Pyrrhus leaned closer, confused. "Go where?"

Cordelia smiled. "You know, into the air? To battle? The thing you were just organizing?" She reached behind her and tapped her hand on the back of her pegasus's saddle.

Only then did Pyrrhus realize what she was suggesting. "Oh, no, I'm to stay with the heavy infantry. Not enough experience with the lance to go off with you, I'm afraid. Take Gregor, or Vaike."

"Tsk! Come now, are you feeling okay? Vaike's been attached to the Risen Team, and Gregor's with Panne. Besides, you'll be fine. Lance or no, a couple punches like the one you gave Stahl the other day and I can handle the rest."

"Even so, are you certain your pegasus can handle my weight? This armor isn't exactly light."

Rather than respond, she grabbed at his pauldron and hoisted him towards her, eliciting a slight yelp from the man. "All right, all right!" he relented. Through no small amount of effort and with Cordelia's assistance, Pyrrhus managed to get atop the pegasus. He had ridden one once before, when Sumia had needed to fetch him from a distant corner of the battlefield, but the experience of flight was still quite astounding. He clasped Cordelia tightly around the waist as she took to the sky.

Pyrrhus had to admit, it was a lovely view. He wrote a mental note that perhaps next time he got a promotion, he should consider becoming a wyvern rider. Sure, he would have to restrain and control a terrifying beast, but he also got to do _this_ all the time. Cordelia's long hair flapped against his armor in the breeze, and he detected the scent of hay and horse sweat from the pegasus alongside the gentle scent of cherry blossoms.

And in that moment he wished to be anywhere but there, sharing such a glorious view with the woman he loved but knew loved another. An ache threatened to overcome his heart, but he buried it, that he might better focus on the task at hand.

His attack commenced, the infantry and cavalry forming defensive postures around the mages and healers, and he knew that it was time to begin. Through the air, he spotted Sumia and Chrom diving from the sky towards their target, and on cue he felt his stomach drop as Cordelia took her mount into a nosedive.

Cordelia looked back at him. "I'm going to pull up at the last second and you jump off, okay? Then I'll swoop back around and strike while you've got them distracted. Oh, and try not to vomit."

Wouldn't that be just the perfect end to his manly ego? The sudden fear of losing his breakfast instantly made him feel nauseous. Pyrrhus took a deep breath. "Ready whenever."

"Right." The ground flew up around them, and Cordelia pulled at her reins expertly. The pegasus spread his wings wide, dropping his speed and swooping upward dramatically at the last possible moment. Roughly ten feet in the air, Pyrrhus released his hold on Cordelia and pushed himself off the pegasus's back.

His aim turned out to be pretty good. He landed directly on top of one of the lieutenant's guards, knocking the man out with one massive, ironclad boot to the head. The man also broke his fall, allowing him to stay on his feet while the two other soldiers and the lieutenant himself panicked at the aerial ambush.

Pyrrhus gave his best devil-may-care smile. Lance in hand, he brought low one of the guards with a single thrust, and bashed his shield into the other man's skull. Only the lieutenant himself remained, and the knight-tactician braced himself for a real battle.

It never happened, however. The lieutenant charged at Pyrrhus, but before he could get within lance range he found himself with a javelin through his stomach. Pyrrhus looked behind the man to see Cordelia lower her throwing arm. Pyrrhus ran his lance through the unconscious soldier he'd landed on to be certain the man was dead, then walked over to Cordelia.

"I love it when a plan comes together," he remarked cheekily.

"We make a pretty good team, I think," she replied.

Pyrrhus smiled. "That we do. Come on, let's meet up with the cavalry and help them take the Valmese ship."

* * *

The battle was over almost before it began. Without a chain of command to organize Valm's soldiers, they were unable to recover and form a counteroffensive. The leader, a man named Dalton, quickly found his ship in enemy hands and went down fighting. In the aftermath, the khans, Pyrrhus, and Chrom concluded that they would need a different strategy to survive this impending war rather than waiting for Valm to attack. In the end, they decided that their best chance was to make for Plegia to request ships for a naval engagement. They decided to make camp outside the harbor and set off for Plegia in the morning.

Pyrrhus walked away from the meeting feeling both exhausted and somehow energized. The adrenaline of battle had worn off, but walking around without that armor for the first time in several days really put a spring in his step. He decided that he might as well volunteer to be on first watch, since he didn't feel that he would be getting to sleep any time soon.

As he wandered to the edge of camp, he noticed a shadow out of the corner of his eye. It dashed from cover to cover, tailing him. Pyrrhus instantly thought of brigands or assassins, and put his left hand at his side as though feeling for a wallet. The dagger he kept hidden in his coat pocket was still there, as he had hoped.

The shadow made another dash closer, and Pyrrhus pretended not to notice. He began whistling tunelessly, waiting for the enemy to make his move.

At last, the stranger leaped from a bush not three feet from the tactician, but Pyrrhus was ready. He ducked out of the way, reaching out with his left hand and grabbing hold of the man as he flew by, pulling him to the ground. With his right hand he drew the dagger and in one swift motion he climbed atop his attacker, pinning the man's arms to the ground beneath his legs and bringing the dagger up to the man's neck.

"Ah, stop stop it's me!" His eyes maladjusted to the dim light, Pyrrhus could barely make out Gaius's face, but he recognized the voice instantly. Pyrrhus let the thief go and stood up.

"One word: why?" Once more, the felt the adrenaline surge from the false attack as he held Gaius by the collar.

"Gods, could you be wound up any tighter?" Gaius asked. "I was going to invite you to the poker game we're having. We know you could use the break, but you looked so distracted when I approached I thought I might loosen you up a bit."

Pyrrhus flipped the dagger around before returning it to its sheath. He felt like he was gasping for air. _"Loosen me up?"_ was all he could get out.

"Yeah, sorry. It's in the mess tent, you want to play or not?"

Pyrrhus released his grip on the thief, who dropped to the ground. He had to admit, Gaius had a point. Maybe he could stand to unwind a bit. "As long as the buy-in's not too high, I don't have a lot of spare money."

Gaius chuckled. "Nah, we don't play for high stakes, just enough to keep us sharp."

They walked together to the mess tent. It wasn't really a tent; it was actually a series of canvas tarps all tied together and hung between four well-spaced trees. A fire crackled at one edge alongside a portable metal oven that were both used to cook the Shepherds' meals, and a number of similarly-portable tables and chairs were set up beneath the tarp as an impromptu dining hall. It was the only place in camp large enough for the entire group to meet under cover. At the side furthest from the fire, three other people sat at a round table with five chairs by the light of an oil lamp.

They walked over and sat down. Gaius spoke first. "Well, gentlemen, I've found our fifth!"

Sully, sitting at the table across from him, cleared her throat conspicuously.

"Excuse me, _ladies_ and gentlemen."

Kellam and Gregor, the other two at the table, waved hello and each plunked a silver coin on the table. Pyrrhus pulled out his wallet and dropped his own silver coin alongside Gaius and Sully. Gaius reached into his satchel and pulled out a deck of cards, which he shuffled expertly and began dealing.

As they played, they discussed the day's battle as well as other events. Pyrrhus was pleased that the chatter remained light.

"So Kellam, how many'd you kill today?" Gaius asked casually.

"Only two," the knight replied. "They didn't notice me until I stuck my lance through them. Always goes that way, it seems."

"Hah! Got you beat. Took down three, not to mention the valuables I nabbed off their ship," Gaius replied. He stuck a lollipop in his mouth. "How 'bout the rest of you?"

"Gregor kill four pasty Valm dastards!" the eldest boasted proudly.

"Not bad, old man," Sully chuckled, "but I counted six by my own lance and sword." Gregor frowned at being called 'old man' but remained silent. "You, Pyrrhus? Paired up with Cordelia, I bet you didn't get much chance." Sully set down her cards and took a drink of wine.

"True! Cordelia is mighty lass, killing many every battle!"

Pyrrhus made a great show of counting on his fingertips, then laughed. "Let's see... six I think? I try not to think about it too much. It's one thing when we battle Risen, but when it's real people it seems a little... dark. Don't you agree?"

"Hey, if you don't laugh, you cry," Gaius remarked. "Now then... a toast... to Pyrrhus and Sully for gutting the most Valmese. May those twelve be the first of many yet to come!"

They hoisted their cups, but Pyrrhus couldn't help but continue his prior thought. "_That_ doesn't seem dark to you?"

"All right, all right, let's change the subject. Gregor, how's the wife?" Kellam asked.

"Wait," interrupted Pyrrhus. "Before we walk down this rocky path, one rule. I declare a moratorium on any rabbit related puns."

Gaius pursed his lips and mumbled for several seconds, but finally nodded.

"Panne is swell!" Gregor insisted. "Gregor never spent so much time with one person before, is new feeling."

Gaius opened his mouth to reply, then glared at Pyrrhus and remained silent.

"How's Panne adjusting to being married to a human?" Kellam asked.

"Alright. Not much different from being taguel, just living above ground now."

Sully nodded. "I remember her first night with the Shepherds, she was appalled that we all slept in tents. Mumbled something about _man-spawn_ and _crazy_ and slept in a pile of leaves under the stars. Took weeks before she'd even consider using the tents."

Gaius looked carefully at his cards, then at the pot on the table. "I fold. So, I bet you two're screwing _like rabbits!_" Before Pyrrhus could reach over to grab hold of the thief, he had bolted from the table.

"Damn it!" Pyrrhus shouted. "Think I won't put you on the front lines, well _think again jackass!_" he shouted at the fleeing figure. Everyone at the table laughed, even Pyrrhus, despite himself. It was good to get out of his own head for a bit, even at the cost of a bit of aggravation. At least it kept him from thinking about-

"Pyrrhus?"

The tactician mentally swore a string of curses that would have made even Sully blush. "Cordelia." The red-haired woman walked into the light of the lamp. "What a nice surprise," he lied. "We seem to have an open seat in our poker game, why don't you join us?" He waved his hand to indicate Gaius's recently-vacated chair.

Cordelia looked around the group with a bit of indignation. Pyrrhus half expected a lecture on gambling, but apparently she had other concerns. "Perhaps another time. Pyrrhus, we're having a bit of a dispute, would you help settle this?"

That was odd. Cordelia never argued with _anyone_, at least not in any respect that would call for arbitration. "Sure, just a second." He looked down at his cards for a second, then threw them on the table. "Fold. Go ahead and deal me out of the next game too." He grabbed his pile of coins and pocketed them while he stood up and Cordelia led him away from the game. He vaguely heard Sully mutter something about there not being enough players to continue, but ignored it.

"What's the matter?" he asked Cordelia as the pair walked towards the stabling area.

"First of all: gambling?" she asked. "Aren't you supposed to be setting a good example? Besides, what happens when you run out of money for supplies?"

"Hmph. One, I set a fine example _thank you very much_, and two, I'm up fifteen silver."

She cracked a smile. "Fine example indeed. A regular _paragon_ of Shepherd-hood." Strange, Cordelia seldom used sarcasm.

"We're getting off topic, Cordelia. What's the problem?"

"It's Virion's retainer, Cherche. She wants her wyvern kept with the rest of the mounts, but I'm concerned that it may be a bad idea."

"Ah, well, I'm sure we can figure something out."

They reached the corral where the horses and pegasi were kept for the night. In reality, it was a section of clear field that had been staked out with a rope tied around. The 'fence' wouldn't stop a bandit or anything; it was simply meant to discourage the mounts from wandering too far. Typically, they were stored in a real stable, but on the march the army could not be expected to build one each night, nor could the army feel justified impinging upon the locals to provide shelter.

"Ah, hello Tactician!" The pink-haired woman greeted them with a curtsy.

"Cherche, right?" He offered her his hand. "Call me Pyrrhus."

"Pyrrhus then. Cordelia believes that you can settle this disagreement impartially?" She took his hand and shook it once. "My darling Minerva should be treated as well as these horses and pegasi. It is only fair that she be allowed inside this pen."

"Okay... Cordelia, why do you disagree?"

"It is a simple matter," began Cordelia. "Wyverns are carnivorous, and are notorious for hunting pegasi, cattle, horses, and the occasional _person_. Letting this 'Minerva' into the animal pen would be akin to letting a fox into the henhouse."

"Minerva wouldn't hurt a fly! Look at that adorable face!" Cherche scratched the wyvern under the chin, who responded with a calm snort. "She is well trained, and will kill only on my command. The other creatures have nothing to fear from her."

"What about her fire breath?" Cordelia replied. "Does she do _that_ only on your command?"

"Wait wait, wyverns _breathe fire_?" Pyrrhus asked in disbelief.

"Of course!" Cherche replied with a smile. "Ones like my Minerva here are trained not to in combat, of course, too much risk of friendly fire... no pun intended."

"Just when I thought they couldn't get any cuddlier," Pyrrhus remarked sarcastically.

"Regardless, Minerva only breathes fire to cook her meals, she would never use it to harm anyone!" insisted Cherche.

Pyrrhus thought for a moment. "Okay then... Cherche, I can tell you love your wyvern a great deal."

"That's right."

"Well, Cordelia loves her pegasus a great deal as well. If I were to have another pen full of wyverns, including your Minerva here, and Cordelia wished to keep her pet in there with it, and Cordelia's pet was... I don't know, what eats wyverns?"

"Bigger wyverns," replied Cherche.

"Ugh, gods," recoiled Pyrrhus. In his head, he furiously erased that mental note he'd written to become a wyvern rider. Nothing was worth having to deal with one of these monsters on a daily basis. "Whatever, say Cordelia wanted to store a creature that could hurt Minerva in a pen with your wyvern. Would you be comfortable with that, even if Cordelia gave you her word that nothing would happen?"

"I suppose that's a fair point," relented Cherche, "but what are we to do with my Minerva?"

Pyrrhus thought for a moment. "Well, there's an extra tarp up over on the men's side of camp, if you don't mind tying her to one of the trees there. Should be far enough away from the other tents and such not to cause any problems if Minerva _does_ decide to breathe fire."

"What do you think, Minerva?" Cherche asked her wyvern. The creature uttered a hiss-roar noise that stirred some primal fear in Pyrrhus. He shuddered involuntarily. "She agrees," the woman confirmed.

"Okay then, just give me a few minutes to clear out anything that might be underneath it, and I'll come get you both," Pyrrhus indicated Cherche and Minerva.

He turned away and set off for the men's side of the camp, only to find Cordelia following him. "What?" he asked her.

"I don't recall seeing any spare tarps set up."

"Oh, I see your confusion. That's because I haven't set it up yet," Pyrrhus answered.

"Aww, that's sweet of you," she replied, and Pyrrhus desperately hoped that the darkness would conceal the flush he felt in his cheeks.

"Yes, well, can't have 'Minerva' eating the cavalry, can we?"

"I suppose not."

"Tell me, is it normal to talk to your mount like that? To treat it like a person?"

"I think so," replied Cordelia. "Most of the aerial division talk to their pegasi, myself included. They're pretty clever creatures, you know."

"I see," mused Pyrrhus. "Most of my studies are macro-scale tactics. I guess I didn't realize there's something of a gaping hole in my knowledge on the micro-scale, at least concerning cavalry minutia."

Cordelia lit up. "Really? Well, if you'd like to learn, I'd be happy to instruct you."

"I'd like that," he replied before he was aware of what he was saying.

Cordelia yawned. "Well, let's start tomorrow, it's getting late. Would you like me to help you put up the tarp before I retire?"

"I think I can handle it, you head off to bed." What the hell was wrong with him?

"Okay then. Night, Pyrrhus." She waved goodbye before turning around and heading back in the other direction.

When she was well out of earshot, Pyrrhus began muttering to himself. "Well, now _this_ is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into. You're supposed to be staying _away_ from her, not scheduling more time together!" He knew that her heart belonged to Chrom, and he knew the smart play was to stay away from her. Just keep from spending time with her, and the innocent little attraction he was feeling would fade away. But if he kept this up, and she continued to be amazing, then it'd blossom into love, and he'd end up just like her: swooning and sighing around the object of his affection while she remained oblivious and disinterested.

Pyrrhus wanted more than anything for that not to happen. Well... not more than _anything_, he admitted to himself. There was one thing he wanted more than that. But he was determined not to be love's fool, and would not allow himself idle speculation to that end. He resolved to cancel the appointment with her tomorrow morning, and put an end to this tragedy before it got started.

* * *

**A/N:** Got a nice swell of reviews in response to Chapter 2, thanks a bunch! Couple things here:

During the entire Valm arc, the Risen aren't really addressed, but they still appear on the map so it's apparent they're still a problem. However, this story is being a little more realistic in terms of time spent in travel (which will become important in a few chapters) so it doesn't make sense for the army to be running around putting down Risen while fighting Valm at the same time. Therefore, Pyrrhus will have designated a sort of "B Team" of everyone that's not on the field who are responsible for putting down the Risen attacks on the eastern continent. This also explains why Pyrrhus isn't using all the Shepherds in every battle. As for the remainder of the armies of Ylisse and Regna Ferox, they're participating in other battles elsewhere. The Shepherds are sort of like Delta Force; they carry out the elite missions and assassinate key figures against overwhelming odds. The other soldiers do most of the taking and holding ground that represents the more mundane aspects of old-school war. The Valm arc does a decent job of keeping these men accounted for, but they too will be a subject of discussion soon.

My intention in this chapter was to explore Pyrrhus a bit as a person, since the Avatar in the game is by necessity somewhat bland. The poker game is an homage to Star Trek: The Next Generation, which used the officer's poker game as an avenue for casual discussion between crew members that would otherwise have seemed contrived. Cordelia is naturally a bit of a stick in the mud, so she disapproves, but one aspect of their relationship will be Pyrrhus helping her loosen up a little.

I dislike the concept of the "Friend Zone" as a gateway to romance (and I think xkcd #513 does an absolutely wonderful job of explaining why). Pyrrhus is trying to be mature about this; he knows Cordelia's infatuated with Chrom and wants to keep her at arm's length until he can get over his little crush. Unfortunately, his subconscious hasn't received this message yet.

Anyway, I'm trying to build up a decent buffer of writing in case I get sick or something. By the time you read this I'll hopefully be about halfway done with the next chapter. Shouldn't affect the waiting period at all, I'm hoping to maintain a speed a bit more frequent than a chapter a week.


	4. Chapter 4

_"My name is Pyrrhus... Oh, and that was_ your_ name as well, wasn't it? What a coincidence."_

_"The heart still sleeps but the blood flows through it. And the blood is strong..."_

Pyrrhus awoke from the nightmare, dagger in hand. In truth, he had not slept well since they discussed returning to Plegia, but tonight, after meeting his double... he wondered if he'd ever sleep again.

He looked at the dagger. He'd decided to keep it under his pillow, close at hand, on this night, with the thought that the feel of it beneath his head might assuage the nightmares he knew would come. It hadn't helped.

He brushed the blanket off him, sat up, and turned so that his feet slipped off the cot in his tent and touched the bare ground. His canteen was on the ground by his cot, so he took a swig of water. With two fingers, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Perhaps a walk would help clear his head, he reasoned. Just as Pyrrhus stood up, he felt a sudden wracking pain in his head, like his skull was shrinking and crushing his brain. He fell back onto his cot, unable to stand, and heard a voice he recognized.

"Pyrrhus... my son... open your heart."

"Validar!" Pyrrhus shouted the name, and its owner appeared before him. The ruler of Plegia, in all his finery, stood before him.

Clutching his own head, Pyrrhus tried to climb from his cot, but he succeeded only in knocking it over and falling to the ground. He tried desperately to focus. "Why?"

"No, Pyrrhus. That is _my_ question. Why do you forsake your destiny?"

"What are you _talking_ about?" Pyrrhus cried out.

"So you have truly forgotten. I wonder why..."

As much pain as he was in, Pyrrhus wanted answers, and he was going to get them. "Who is that man? Who is the other Pyrrhus?"

Validar responded as though he were saying the most obvious thing in the world. "He is my son... flesh of my flesh, as you are."

Pyrrhus grit his teeth. "I am _not_ your son!"

"You are, and you have the divine blood of glorious destiny within you! Open your heart and become one with it! Join with the Fell Dragon!"

"Get... out... of my _head!"_ Pyrrhus shouted, and the man was gone as quickly as he'd arrived.

"Pyrrhus!" Chrom shouted, nearly ripping the tent flap off. "Are you all right?" Apparently the lord had heard Pyrrhus and come to help.

The tactician laid upon the ground, feeling the grass tickle his head as the pain from the attack faded. "I... will be... I think."

Chrom knelt beside his friend. "You look like hell. What happened?"

"Validar... was in my head. Said I was his son."

"His _son?_" Chrom balked. "Gods, could that other Pyrrhus be your twin?"

"Might be, but would _you_ have two identical twins and give them the same name?"

Chrom thought for a moment. "Well, no, but maybe that's a thing in Plegia? We could ask Tharja."

Pyrrhus, whose breathing had steadied, sat up. "Whoever that other Pyrrhus is, when I saw him today, that feeling of wrongness I've had as long as I can remember just started churning. I don't know who the hell he is, but if I see him again, I'm going to kill him."

"Is that really prudent? You have no idea what your connection is with that man," Chrom offered.

"I don't. But I also know, deep down in my gut, that this world will be a lot more pleasant without him."

Pyrrhus stood up, and Chrom helped him right his cot and set right the blanket. Chrom looked carefully at the tactician. "Pyrrhus, you look exhausted, you should-"

_"Risen! Sound the alarm! We're surrounded!"_

Pyrrhus sighed. "Should go fight off the Risen. Got it." He stood up and began to hurriedly don his armor.

"You sure you're okay?" Chrom asked, fortunately already in his own armor and with Falchion at his side.

"Peachy," Pyrrhus replied darkly.

* * *

"And that is how I came to be here amongst you," finished Lucina, formerly the swordsman masquerading as Marth. She had just spent the last hour recounting her tragic history to the small council (the name which Pyrrhus had come to use to describe Chrom, Frederick, Sumia, and himself) in the tent used for tactical meetings. It was the largest tent they had, and it was dominated by a large table bearing the company's world map. Half a dozen chairs were kept around the table, and four were occupied. Lucina was standing to address everyone else.

"It is a terrifying story to be sure," said Frederick. "I do not envy you your past."

"Thank you," replied Lucina, "But right now my only concern is preventing that tragedy from playing out." Pyrrhus recalled the last time he'd heard that phrase. It was when he had resolved to stay away from Cordelia. He admonished himself once more for neglecting to call off their scheduled lesson on cavalry. But this was hardly the time to get distracted. He raised his finger to get everyone's attention, then spoke.

"You say that Chrom was betrayed by his closest friend, but you don't know who exactly. Forgive me, but that's quite a thing not to know!" He yawned. The adrenaline of battle had worn off and he felt awful.

Lucina's head fell. "I am sorry. It didn't seem important to know until after those who _did know_ were no longer among us. Our flight through time was made with haste; there was no time to investigate." Pyrrhus examined her closely. She was a severe woman. He speculated that the hardships she survived had been a crucible to burn away all the softness in her. But she was certainly not unkind: the sadness in her voice as she had described her struggle gave it away.

"I understand," Chrom said apologetically. "You have done everything that could be expected of you and more. With the information you possess, I am confident that we can prevent that future from ever coming to pass... although, what would happen to you then?"

Lucina pursed her lips. "I suspect that my existence, and the existence of my companions, will remain unaffected. I have no proof, however. Regardless, I would gladly cease to exist if it would ensure my future never happened."

"And your friends," added Sumia. "You know where they are?"

"Some of them, yes. We were separated during the journey. Over the last two years I have located evidence of a few of them, and I remain hopeful that the rest can be found."

Pyrrhus thought for a moment. "If we can find a few, learn where and when they arrived, we may be able to discern a pattern and use it to find the rest." He stifled another yawn.

"Good thinking, Pyrrhus." Chrom stood. "Very well. Lucina, when you get a chance, feel free to instruct Frederick on where your known companions may be found. He will make sure the Risen Team is aware. We should get some sleep now. Lucina, until we procure a tent for you, you can share with Lissa, I'm sure she won't mind. Let's reconvene tomorrow morning, then?" Sumia and Frederick stood, and the three walked out into the inky midnight blackness. Only Pyrrhus remained, still seated. He stared at Lucina.

"You don't believe me," Lucina said simply.

"On the contrary," replied Pyrrhus. "I've suspected you were from another time for quite a while. I'm actually pretty pleased. I would have told the others, but for the fear they'd think me crazy. And people don't listen when a crazy man gives them orders in battle." He smiled casually.

Lucina frowned. "I had not thought it so obvious."

"Chrom described in detail the portal from which you emerged, which is odd enough to warrant an unfathomable explanation. But you possessed Falchion, a sword that is known to be utterly unique. By the way it glowed during the attack on Emmeryn, I knew that it could not be a fake. The only possible explanation is that they be the same sword, and there are _precious few_ means by which _that_ can happen. When you had knowledge of the future, it was the final clue I needed. No, you are _absolutely_ from the future."

Lucina's frown disappeared. "The other Shepherds spoke highly of your skills, but they did not do them justice."

Pyrrhus chuckled. "Before you get too excited, it was Miriel who first suggested time travel, not me. But she has a tendency to phrase things in the most incomprehensible way, so the others probably didn't notice."

"Very well then." Lucina paused for several seconds. "Why are you still staring at me?"

"You'd never met me before tonight."

Lucina flinched. "I had not."

"In your time, I was dead."

"You are not unique in that respect, sir."

"What can you tell me about my own future?"

Lucina looked away. "Very little, I'm afraid. Even if I had the inclination or the recollection, I would say nothing on the subject. I must remain vigilant that I not alter this timeline unnecessarily."

Pyrrhus snarled. "But your presence here has already caused irrevocable change! The die is already cast, whether you would acknowledge the result or not."

"I am willing to accept a certain level of risk for the sake of altering the future. I will not cross that line."

Pyrrhus slammed his fist on the table in frustration. "And your arbitrary rule could very well cause that future!"

Lucina narrowed her eyes into a dangerous glare. "I will share with the Shepherds what information I can provide, but my decision is final."

"Well, I hope that provides you some comfort if we fail, and the _world ends_." Pyrrhus stood abruptly, knocking over his chair, and without another word he stormed from the tent.

* * *

_Pyrrhus placed a single flower atop the freshly-moved soil. A man was talking, and he struggled to listen, able to make out only a few fragments._

_"-vived by... band and... otters. Would any... peak?"_

_Band and otters?_

Pyrrhus snapped awake in a cold sweat. His head felt like it was in a vice, and he struggled not to cry out in pain lest he wake anyone else. What was that dream? It seemed familiar, somehow, but he couldn't recall any memory it linked to. Whatever it was, the dream was fleeting; details dripped from his mind like water through a sieve. The headache left with the dream, apparently, and within a minute or two he felt comfortable enough to try and go back to sleep.

It was all nightmares and nerves with him. Perhaps that was why he'd been so short with Lucina earlier? Ugh, he was probably too rude to her. He'd have to apologize. To him, the distinction between full-blown intervention and whatever she was doing was non-existent. Perhaps in the morning she could explain better? It would be nice to know in advance if he were about to make a mistake that would get Shepherds killed.

His tired mind wandered back to the hierophant of Grima, and his supposed father. Validar wanted him to join with Grima, but what the hell did that even mean? One thing was for sure, though. The Plegians were not done scheming. And if someone would betray Chrom, Pyrrhus could think of one likely candidate.

Pyrrhus rolled over, and noticed a glimmer of light from outside the flap of his tent. It was sunrise. He was exhausted, but he knew what he had to do.

* * *

A few hours later, the small council reconvened, and Pyrrhus took the opportunity to speak to Chrom. He checked to be certain that nobody lurked outside, that Chrom, Sumia, and Frederick would be the only ones to hear him.

"Chrom, I think it's me. I think I'm the one who betrays you."

Chrom laughed. "Come now, be serious."

"It's either me, or it's that _other_ me back in Plegia. It's been years and I still don't have any memory of my past. What if I don't have a past?"

"I don't understand," replied Chrom.

"What if Validar has some spell that makes... mes? What if I'm some sort of magical construct that carries out orders for Plegia? Perhaps that's why he calls me his son."

"That doesn't make sense, Pyrrhus. If that were true, why would they have allowed you to help us fight them two years ago?"

"Maybe I'm broken or something, I don't know. But if they... fix me... or replace me with that duplicate, then that's it. I confided in you the nightmare I had right before we met where I killed you. What if that's not a dream, what if it's my mission or something?"

"Pyrrhus, how well did you sleep last night?" Frederick asked.

"I'm fine!" he insisted. "I can't let you risk yourself by trusting me, Chrom!"

"Pyrrhus, you're exhausted!" Frederick shouted. "You look like you haven't slept in days."

"Peace, Frederick," interrupted Chrom, waving a hand at him in dismissal. "Pyrrhus... what are you proposing that I do?"

The tactician thought for a moment. "Lock me up. Send me back to Ylisse and put me in the dungeons. I can't hurt you there, and if I somehow reappear or ask to be let out, you'll know I'm about to betray you."

"And what would we do without a tactician?" Chrom asked patiently.

"I'll write up strategies, have them messengered to the front." Pyrrhus knew he was thinking haphazardly, but Chrom had to see reason.

"Really? Write up strategies from your cell in Ylisse, send them on a two month journey to Valm. What happens if those plans get intercepted? Our lives would all be forfeit. Even if they don't, let's say you're right. When you're fixed or whatever, all you'd need to do is send me plans that get me killed, it's just as effective as you driving the sword in my back yourself."

"But that's not how it happens in my dream. If I'm not near you-"

"Enough!" shouted Chrom, having apparently lost his patience. "Lucina said that time favors its original course. Emmeryn's death proves that. You're my tactician. If you want me dead, it won't be a difficult task, no matter where you are."

Pyrrhus fell to his knees before his friend. "Please, Chrom. You're the closest thing I have to family."

Chrom looked into his tactician's eyes. "_That's_ what I'm counting on, Pyrrhus. I'm counting on you not betraying your family. If you're correct, then I'm betting my life on it, and that's a bet I'll take any day."

Pyrrhus sighed. "Fine." Once Chrom had his mind made up, he wouldn't change it. Chrom was stubborn that way, and Pyrrhus respected the man for it.

Chrom helped Pyrrhus to his feet. "Whatever you do, _don't tell Lucina_. I'm not sure she'd give you the same chance. Now, you get back in your bed and get some sleep, my friend. We're marching soon. I'll tell the others you're not feeling well."

Pyrrhus felt completely drained, his exhaustion having taken its toll. He stumbled to his feet and nearly tripped on his way out of the strategy tent.

* * *

As it happened, most of the group was still tired from the late-night ambush, and Lucina still had to explain her presence to the rest of the group, so the march was delayed and then cut short. In total, the army covered less than half their usual ground that day. Pyrrhus was thankful, as a visit to the apothecary had granted him a restful few hours of sleep in the morning, unencumbered by nightmares. He went to bed early, even missing out on dinner, and fell right back to sleep. But he was awakened in the evening by a thumping on the flap of his tent.

He propped himself up on his elbows. Someone was standing outside. "Come in," he called blearily.

His eyes were still foggy, but there was no mistaking the gout of bright red hair that walked in. Pyrrhus nervously pulled his blanket up to his chin.

"Cordelia! What are you doing here? I'm not wearing a shirt!"

She laughed. "I've seen shirtless men before, you know. I've met Vaike. I came to make sure you were okay."

"I'm alright," he replied.

"Really? Chrom said you were feeling under the weather."

"Just needed some sleep." He paused for a few seconds as his mind tried to wake up. She was still standing, bent over slightly due to the low ceiling. "Oh, where are my manners? Have a seat!" He pulled his legs over the edge of his cot to stand up, but realized that he was in his underwear. "Oh, umm... excuse me..."

Cordelia smiled. "No, don't get up please! I'll get my own chair, you lie back down!" Before Pyrrhus could embarrass himself further, she took a step over to the portable chair in his tent and sat down. Only then did Pyrrhus notice that she had something in her hands.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Oh! Well, they say a person only needs two things to be happy: love and work."

Pyrrhus blanked for several seconds as his heart leaped in his chest, then came to the logical conclusion. "So... it's work?"

She handed him the object, which Pyrrhus could tell was a book of some kind. "I know how much you like to read about strategy, but this isn't exactly that. One of the soldiers found it while searching Dalton's boat. It's a book written by Walhart. I read a bit, and it sounds kind of like a manifesto? I figured it might help you to know your enemy."

"How thoughtful!" Pyrrhus replied cheerily. He took the book gladly and opened it. "Should be very illuminating. Thank you."

She stood up to leave. "Well, I'll let you get your rest. But remember, I still have to teach you about pegasi."

Pyrrhus avoided eye contact. "Oh yeah, about that, I know you're busy. Why don't we just forget about it? I'm sure I can find a book on the subject."

Cordelia frowned. "A book is no substitute for an invested teacher."

He winced. If he pushed the issue, it might make her suspicious, and he wasn't exactly at his best. He'd have a difficult time keeping any lies straight. "Okay, if you're sure. But please don't feel obligated, I'll understand if you don't have the time."

"Nonsense! I'll see you tomorrow!" she waved goodbye and stepped out of the tent.

Pyrrhus sighed. So much for that. He turned the book over in his hands. It was bound in leather, but supple. Clearly it was intended to be carried with personal possessions into battle. He flipped through a few pages. Not terribly dense writing, not very long either. Pyrrhus decided to go ahead and read a bit.

He spent an hour or so perusing the book. Most of it was typical propaganda nonsense, about how Valm was bringing civilization and peace to the rest of the world, at the end of a blade if necessary. But one bit stuck out in his head, and he found himself reading it several times.

_There is goodness and there is greatness. Some are born great, and others have the opportunity to become great by circumstance. I, Walhart, was born great, and my country of Valm will be made great by the circumstance of my royalty._

Pyrrhus thought about that. It made sense. Chrom, for example, there was a great man. You couldn't _teach_ that kind of faith in his fellow man, no, Chrom was born great. Cordelia deserved a great man like Chrom. It was a depressing thought, he admitted, but perhaps it might help him quash those feelings that had stirred at Cordelia's mere _mention_ of the word love. He would carry that thought into conversation with Cordelia as he would carry a shield into battle, to protect himself from the most dangerous blades on either field.

* * *

The next morning, he sought out Lucina. He found her in the strategy tent, looking at the world map alone. He walked in and cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Lucina turned around to see who it was. "Ah, Pyrrhus. You have need of the room? I will depart." She made a move to the exit.

Pyrrhus shook his head and held out his hand to stop her. "No, actually, I wanted to speak to you. I was unnecessarily short with you the other day, and I apologize for that. You took the burden of traveling through time, and the weight of what information you share lies with you."

Lucina gave a hint of a smile. "Thank you, Pyrrhus. I would like to be friends with the Shepherds's tactician."

Pyrrhus walked over to the table and gazed at the map. "I'd just like to explain where I was coming from, if you don't mind."

Lucina turned back around and looked at it with him. "By all means."

Pyrrhus had spent his time searching for Lucina coming up with the proper phrasing. "Like you, I shoulder a burden. I am trusted with the lives of every member of our group on the battlefield. I am asked to be perfect, but I know that can't happen. I've already had a few close calls as is, and... I would be remorseful if I made a mistake that cost the life of one of my friends."

"I can understand the difficulty of such a position." Lucina's voice was like a dam, holding back a flood of powerful emotions. Pyrrhus wondered what awful memory she was reliving at the moment.

"I know you don't want to risk causing too many alterations to the timeline. Even minute changes might affect the way things turn out in the long run. But you chose to save Emmeryn's life. I'm not sure if that was part of your overall plan to prevent Grima's return, or if you just thought it would be a nice thing to do. Regardless, I know it's a lot to ask, but if you know of any times that I make a mistake that would-"

Lucina cut him off. "I get it." She spent several seconds staring at the table silently before she spoke again. "If I remember any times that your or Chrom's plans result in someone's death, and it seems avoidable, I will attempt to intervene. Is this acceptable?"

Pyrrhus nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Lucina continued to look at the map. "So, we take our ships across _here_," she traced out a line on the map over the ocean. "And we make landfall here?"

"That's right. If we can secure a foothold in Rosanne, it should be easier to push back Walhart from there."

"How long will it take to cross the ocean?"

"Can't be certain," Pyrrhus replied. "Haven't seen the ships yet, and I don't know much about sailing. If I had to guess, I'd say a few weeks, maybe a month?"

Lucina grimaced. "Ugh."

"Shouldn't be so bad," Pyrrhus replied optimistically. He would later be eating those words.

* * *

**A/N**: This chapter is important because it brings up one of the two central themes of this story. The first one, here, is the concept of greatness and what makes a person "great." As for the other one, it's come up a bit in foreshadowing but it's not remotely clear yet. Here's a hint, though: it's the question that Lucina should really be asking rather than "Who betrays Chrom?"

From this point on, things are going to start diverting a bit from the exact story, for a couple of reasons. First, because I want to discuss my themes and adjusting the story helps there. Second and more importantly, this is a game with a lot of plot holes. I could either fanwank like crazy to cover them all up, or I could adjust things for a more coherent and more enjoyable story (a lot of the groundwork for these changes has already been laid). I don't blame IS or Nintendo here, they did the best they could with a character as customizable as the Avatar. There's a lot of blank space that has to be left when there's so many different options for marrying different characters (or not marrying them) and trying to weave a sensible plot from it.

So that things make a little more sense, details will be changed and content added, but hey, that's what you sign up for when you read fanfiction. This is taking a lot more writing than I was expecting, so we're not talking 10 chapters any more. Rather than give you another estimate that's bound to be way off, I'm going to decline an estimate altogether. I've got the story arc all planned out, so it's just a matter of how long it takes me to write all that and how much fluff I want to intersperse. I'll tell you right now there will be a fair bit of that fluff, since I do intend to cover most of the courtship period between the main couple that the game's supports tend to gloss over.


	5. Chapter 5

If Pyrrhus had been asked to describe what he imagined travel on the ocean to be before experiencing it firsthand, he would have probably used the words 'romantic,' 'freedom,' and 'excitement.' Having spent the last two weeks on the ocean, he discovered quickly that the most apt words were not so positive. In fact, if he were forced to assign a single word to it now, he'd pick 'boring.' It took a few days to get his sea legs, by which point the motion sickness was gone. Then there was nothing to do but sit in the cramped cabin or under the sun on the deck and watch the open blue. Pyrrhus never thought he'd grow tired of reading, but alas, that day had come.

It wasn't just the boredom, either. The ship, he discovered on the second day, was not quite seventy feet from stem to stern. Miriel had a great deal to say on the matter (something about theoretical maximum hull speed as a function of the something or other) but he was more concerned with the limitations that it offered in terms of movement. Pyrrhus enjoyed taking walks when he had to think, or after meals, but he was no longer allowed such a simple luxury.

Then there was the matter of the animals. Cherche and her wyvern could fly over the ocean in just a few days, with occasional breaks. Pegasi didn't have that sort of aerial stamina, which meant they had to be kept on the ships. Chrom and Pyrrhus hadn't considered the added complexity of bringing beasts of burden on ships, which meant _more ship__s_ of course. Although at first they had assumed that Plegia's offered vessels would be ample for their mission, the number of transports was quite near the mark. The warships, on the other hand, were heavily understaffed. The neighbor vessel, for instance, was under the command of a lieutenant from Regna Ferox with no experience in naval combat whatsoever.

On the seventeenth day of their voyage, Pyrrhus walked out onto deck around midmorning carrying a biscuit and an apple in a napkin. He took a deep breath of the salty ocean air. The sun was halfway to the center of the sky behind them, and the deck itself was not particularly busy. This particular Plegian ship was a four-masted heavy carrack, or so he had been told by a sailor who knew such things. The deck space (of which there was little) was mostly cleared out, though Pyrrhus did take care to avoid the few workers on duty.

He wandered to the forecastle and looked out to the north. Sure enough, a large winged creature was flying towards him at high speed. The flash of bright blue on the helm confirmed it as Cordelia, as expected. He waited in silence as her pegasus closed the distance and landed upon the deck before him with a blast of wind from his wings.

Pyrrhus smiled and walked up to Cordelia. "Good morning!"

The woman removed her helm to reveal a similarly-bright smile. "Good morning to you, too."

Pyrrhus unfolded the napkin, revealing the food he'd taken from the galley. "Have you eaten yet? The biscuit's fresh." He gave the pegasus a pat on the nose. "And I didn't forget you, either." With his left hand, he gently held the apple out to the beast, who immediately consumed the fruit.

Cordelia took the offered biscuit. "I swear he flies faster on the approach here every morning. I think he's figured out that these trips mean he gets a treat." She gave the pegasus a gentle pat on his neck. "Ready to go?"

"Yup." Pyrrhus had a much easier time climbing atop the pegasus without his armor on, and he'd had a good deal of practice over the last few weeks. With Pyrrhus secure, Cordelia took hold of the reins again and the pegasus took off into the air.

In these weeks of boredom, Pyrrhus found his reprieve in spending more time with Cordelia. She rode in the same vessel as he, but each morning she would have one of the pegasus knight scouts ferry her to her own mount and take to the skies. Flying around with her didn't allow Pyrrhus the chance to stretch his legs like his walks would, but the open, breezy air did wonders to clear his head, even as he clutched the waist of the unknowing target of his affection. He acknowledged to himself that it was absolutely a mistake, but it was one that he found himself unable to stop making.

As the pegasus climbed, Pyrrhus suddenly wondered something. "Hey Cordelia, how come I never see you with your armor off? Err, that is, not in regular clothes? Isn't it dangerous to wear your armor at sea?" Pyrrhus had been instructed not to wear his own armor except for immediately before combat, because falling overboard in it would mean almost certain death. There was no way that Cordelia's armor was as heavy as his, but it would certainly have been a similar risk.

Cordelia didn't respond for several seconds, but as her helmet was once more on her head, he could not read her facial expression. Just when he was about to ask again in case she hadn't heard, she responded. "It's... a professional thing. I'm the captain of the pegasus knights, so I feel bound by duty to wear my armor when I am about."

"Yeah, but in the entire time I've known you, even before you were appointed captain, I've never seen you in anything but that armor."

"I'd rather not discuss this right now."

Had he made her angry? Pyrrhus couldn't imagine how. "I'm sorry, Cordelia, I didn't mean to pry. Your armor suits you!"

Her head nodded a bit. "I know you didn't mean any offense. It's fine."

Pyrrhus decided that it would be best to change the subject. "You know, it occurred to me last night, but even though I've ridden your pegasus at least half a dozen times now, I still don't know his name. I'm not even entirely certain it's a 'he.'"

"His name is Diomedes," Cordelia replied. "I'm coming in for a landing, hold on tight."

Pyrrhus felt a series of jolts and jostles as the great creature alighted on their destination, one of the transports used for carrying animals. The ship was smaller than the one they had left, and the crew compliment was much lower to account for the large number of animals on board. Only the ship's pilot was on deck at the moment. There were only two masts rather than four, and the ship was probably only about fifty feet long. Cordelia removed her helm while Pyrrhus jumped down unceremoniously. He offered his arm to help her down.

"Always the gentleman," she muttered, rolling her eyes but taking his hand all the same.

Pyrrhus looked the pegasus in the eye. "Thank you for the ride, Diomedes." The beast gave a soft whinny. Pyrrhus turned back to Cordelia. "I think I'm growing on him. So, what are we learning today, teacher?"

Cordelia shot him an annoyed look. "Must you call me that? Anyway, I thought we'd discuss the flight feathers of the pegasus today. Diomedes here will be an excellent specimen for study."

They spent the next half hour discussing the most vital feathers used by pegasi in flight, their positions, and how they adjusted during normal flight. Truth be told, most of the information he learned under Cordelia's tutelage wasn't terribly interesting; he could not possibly think of a strategic use for knowing the location of a pegasus's flight feathers, or the proper way to brush a horse, or the method by which wyverns replaced their scales. But Cordelia could have lectured on drying paint and Pyrrhus was certain he'd find it enjoyable. And interesting or not, it absolutely helped kill time, one thing they possessed in abundance. Pyrrhus made certain to pay close attention to what she said, for he was if nothing else an apt pupil.

"So tell me," Pyrrhus requested near the end of the lesson, "What happens when the pegasus loses the flight feathers during a molt?"

"Excellent question," replied Cordelia. "The pegasus molts once per year, and it drops all its flight feathers at once. During that time, it must remain flightless. It happens in early spring, which coincides with the time that foals are born. Because the foals are also flightless for several months after birth, the pegasi have little use for flight during that time."

He suddenly recalled a bit of tactical advice he had once read. "That explains why Dorne wrote that he could count on Parnath to never launch an aerial attack during the spring!"

"What's that?" Cordelia asked.

"It's a tactical book I read a couple years ago, written by Dorne of Syndis. Parnath, the enemy of Syndis, didn't have access to wyverns at the time of Dorne's writing, so any aerial cavalry they used had to be pegasi. He mentioned moving archers from defensive positions to just behind the front lines in spring during the Parnathian War. He insisted that he didn't have to worry about the barricades being assaulted by air, but he never mentioned _why_. I've wondered why he was so confident for _years now_, and it finally makes sense!" Pyrrhus felt delighted.

"Huh," Cordelia replied. "It's odd how two different people find two different uses for the same information. When I first learned it, I realized why the new pegasus students were brought in to start training in spring."

The two shared a bit of a chuckle, followed by an awkward silence as neither had much to say. Evidently attempting to fill the silence, Cordelia decided to change the subject. "Oh Pyrrhus, that reminds me, have you heard about Virion and Olivia? Sounds like he's finally found a woman susceptible to his so-called charms. According to Lissa, they've been spotted _dancing in the moonlight_." She walked over to the railing of the ship, and Pyrrhus followed.

"I hadn't heard," Pyrrhus replied honestly. Certainly there was no wonder Cordelia had heard it from Lissa, however; the young princess, for all her nicer qualities, was an indefatigable gossip. In his head, Pyrrhus thought of her as Keeper of the Shepherds' Secrets. It was useful, of course, to have access to that sort of knowledge, so he kept any rude comments to himself, lest he be excluded from her list of recipients at an inopportune time. "I suppose, sooner or later, it was bound to happen. You shoot enough arrows, one of them's got to hit the target eventually."

Cordelia gave a bit of a giggle, and Pyrrhus smiled. "Perhaps that metaphor's a bit on the nose."

"Just a bit," Cordelia replied. "So how about you, Sir Pyrrhus the Wise? Surely there's a bright-eyed lass you've had your eye on." Her tone was light; was she teasing him?

"I'm afraid not," Pyrrhus lied. He leaned upon the railing and looked out to the south. "I think I have too much on my mind to waste time on that sort of thing."

Cordelia gave him a light push. "Oh, please! Everyone's got time for _that sort of thing!"_ She adjusted a bit of hair behind her ear, which brought Pyrrhus's attention to her long, slender neck.

"Well," Pyrrhus replied, "there might be _one_ young woman."

Cordelia's eyes lit up. "I _knew_ it! Who is it?"

Pyrrhus scoffed. "My lips are sealed."

Cordelia groaned. "You're no fun. At least tell me about her!"

Pyrrhus thought for a second. Would it really do that much harm? _Don't do this, don't do this, this is a terrible idea,_ he shouted at himself in his head. His mind warned him off, but his heart relented. "She is absolutely wonderful. She's kind, and thoughtful, beautiful and brilliant."

"Have you asked her out yet? You've certainly got all the time you could want on this voyage."

"I haven't." _You're going to regret this, you incompetent, lovesick idiot._

"And why not? You know what they say: 'It's all that's left unsaid upon which tragedies are built.' It's obvious you're crazy about this girl, just by looking at your face!"

Pyrrhus wrinkled his brow. He hadn't noticed a change in his facial expression. _Yup, just _give_ yourself away! This is your doing, Heart, and I swear if you make a fool of me there'll be hell to pay!_ He schooled his features. "Because... I already know what her answer would be."

Cordelia's gentle smile dropped into a look of pity. "Oh."

Pyrrhus nodded bitterly. "That's right. 'Oh.' Anyway, the smart play is to get over her rather than get all moony and lovesick, and you know me: I always go for the smart play." _Not right now you stupid, stupid, _stupid_ man._

Cordelia put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Pyrrhus. For what it's worth, I know exactly how you feel. And you're right, the smart move is to put her behind you and move on. You should do that."

Pyrrhus turned around to face the ship again, and leaned back on the railing. "Do me a favor: don't spread that around the camp, please? I wouldn't want her catching wind of this. I don't want her to feel uncomfortable." _Hiding behind a false clue, okay that's not bad,_ his mind admitted reluctantly.

"Of course!" insisted Cordelia. "I won't speak of this to another soul. And Pyrrhus," she added, looking him dead in the eye, "any girl would be lucky to have you. You're a catch, you know that? A handsome knight, and a world-class tactician besides! You'll find the right one someday, I promise!"

Pyrrhus returned her smile, but inside his stomach churned at her pitying words. _What did you think was going to happen?_ "I certainly hope you're right."

She paused for several seconds. "It's Maribelle, isn't it?"

Pyrrhus rolled his eyes. "First of all, I'm not telling you. Second of all, it's _not_ Maribelle."

Cordelia sighed. "Fine! Well, want to head back to the main ship?"

"Probably for the best," Pyrrhus replied. He helped her up onto Diomedes, earning himself another sarcastic remark and accompanying eye-roll as he clambered on behind her. They were about to take off, when Cordelia stopped the pegasus.

"Huh."

"What's that?" Pyrrhus asked from behind her.

Cordelia cleared her throat and turned her head to talk to him. "Oh, uhh... nothing." Her helmet was on again, so once again Pyrrhus was left unable to gather anything from her facial expression. He looked at her for several seconds, trying to get her to say something else, but she merely turned back around.

"Okay," he said, puzzled. "I believe we were about to leave?"

"Right." In another minute, they were in the air. Shouting through the wind, Cordelia called back to him. "When we get back, you want to work on your lance technique?"

Pyrrhus, however, was staring out at the sea. "I think I'm about to get some practice regardless." He pointed out a series of black dots on the horizon to the west. "I think we've found Valm's invasion fleet."

"We'd better sound the alarm. I doubt anyone else has spotted those ships yet, we're so high up." In an instant, Cordelia's voice had changed from curiously playful to deadly serious. Pyrrhus looked out at the black dots, that he could now see all across the horizon. This was going to be one hell of a fight.

* * *

Later that day, with the flaming ships behind them and the battle over, Pyrrhus ambled down to the lower decks to remove his armor and get healed up. In the makeshift triage room, he found Chrom and Sumia. The lord was being healed by his sister of some rather serious-looking injury, and Sumia appeared to be lecturing him.

"Hey Lissa, got a bit of a burn here from one of those mages, when you get a chance. Nothing serious, take your time." He pointed at his chest, where the blast of flame had caught him.

Lissa shot a look of exasperation in his direction, which left Pyrrhus confused. He sat down on the bench next to Chrom and tried not to eavesdrop.

"I can't believe you!" Sumia very nearly shouted at Chrom.

Chrom was looking surprisingly defensive. "I only did what I thought was best!" Was he... _justifying himself to Sumia?_ Oh man, this was going to be good.

"Yes, and look what that got you," Sumia replied, pointing at the gaping leg wound that Lissa was busily closing.

"Donnel was in trouble, what should I have done?" Chrom asked, just barely raising his voice.

"You think about what would happen to Ylisse if something happened to _you_," Sumia answered angrily. "And don't try and raise your voice at me."

"You're raising your voice at _me!_" Chrom insisted, and Pyrrhus winced.

"You haven't _begun_ to see me raise my voice!" Sumia shouted. "You don't make stupid decisions without talking to me first, and that's final!"

"Oh, yes, what fun that will be," Chrom replied sarcastically. "Going to the wife to ask _permission_ before I intervene to save a man's life."

"Don't say it like that!" Sumia insisted. "You should be honored I let someone so pigheaded call me wife in the first place."

Chrom sighed wearily. Judging by his expression, this conversation had been going on for some time. That explained Lissa's exasperation. In desperation, he turned to Pyrrhus.

"You're the tactician, back me up here, Pyrrhus!"

Pyrrhus glared at him. "How stupid do you think I am, Chrom?" he asked indignantly.

"Don't bring him into this," Sumia added.

Pyrrhus was starting to feel very uncomfortable. He was wearing his armor still, and made an attempt to imitate Kellam's vanishing act. It was sort of like a _twist_ and then... no, it wasn't working. Oh well. "You know, I could always get this treated later, give you two some privacy." Lissa gave him a panicked _don't leave me here_ look.

The couple ignored him. "Lucina says you get killed, and the world ends as a result. Far as I'm concerned, the fact that _you get killed_ is reason enough for me to be concerned!" Sumia continued.

"That doesn't happen for _ages_ though, Sumia! She says we at least win this war first!"

"Yes, because the future _never_ changes, does it?"

"For what it's worth, I agree with Sumia. Can't be too careful, Chrom."

"Stay out of this, Pyrrhus!"

Pyrrhus sighed as the two continued bickering. Sumia had certainly grown into her role as queen over the last few years. Pyrrhus knew that her current anger at Chrom was really motivated by fear. But to bring out this side of her, well, it must've been a _boatload_ of fear.

Their argument continued for several more minutes before Pyrrhus finally decided that he'd had enough. "You know, Lissa, I think I'm feeling a lot better. My armor stopped more of that attack than I thought. I'll let you work."

Lissa glared angrily at him, but Pyrrhus returned a big smile as he walked out of the cabin. As he closed the door, he heard Sumia shout, "Well then I guess I'm just always going to have to be at your side in battle from now on!" He panicked and ran before Chrom tried to drag him back in and explain why that was tactically a poor decision.

In his flight, he very nearly ran into Gaius, who twisted out of Pyrrhus's way agilely. "What're you running from, Bubbles?"

"Marital bliss," Pyrrhus replied wryly.

Gaius looked around the tactician's shoulder and listened to the two voices that were now shouting over each other. "Don't blame you."

Pyrrhus thought for a second. "Gaius, you're a worldly sort. Mind if I ask for a bit of advice?"

"Knock yourself out, Bubbles, so long as we're heading in the direction of the galley." The thief headed for the front of the ship, and Pyrrhus followed.

"How do you get over a girl?"

Gaius thought for a second. "Hmm... normally I climb out of the bed, grab my clothes, and sneak out while she's still asleep."

Pyrrhus groaned. "Very chivalrous."

"Hey, of the two of us, I ain't the knight." They had reached the galley, and Gaius prodded the ship's cook for some food. The cook (Pyrrhus didn't know his name) handed the two of them each a plate of stew, and they sat down at the table.

"Seriously though," Gaius responded between bites, "Why're you asking? Scuttlebutt is you've got nobody special."

"It's purely a hypothetical," Pyrrhus lied, covering his tracks. "I have no memory of my teenage years, when I would doubtless have learned about this sort of thing." He swallowed a spoonful of the stew. Sadly, there was no such thing as fresh meat on an ocean voyage. Most of the meat on the ship was dried, like jerky, but whatever was in this stew was probably salt cured and stored in barrels. It wasn't bad, per se, and it was definitely a step up from some of the Shepherds' travel rations, but it was more than a step down from freshly-cooked tavern fare. At least the cook was a pretty decent baker.

Gaius narrowed his eyes at Pyrrhus, as if trying to determine whether Pyrrhus was lying. Whatever he decided, he didn't share. "Well, Bubbles, I wish there was some big secret I could tell you, but it's mostly just time and distance that work best, 'least from what I know. I'm not exactly an expert on the subject. No, you want someone who knows about love in detail," Gaius mused. "I'd suggest Sumia, but we both know she's a little busy right now."

"It's okay," Pyrrhus replied. "Like I said, I was mostly just curious. Not a big deal." Time and distance. Nothing new. Distance was impossible, and although he had time in spades, he didn't have much else to do with it but spend it with her. "Anyway, seems like you're always coming to help me, anything I can do for you?"

"Matter of fact, I can think of something," Gaius replied. "Don't worry, nothing illegal. Just tell me what you did to make Tharja so attached."

Pyrrhus shuddered involuntarily. "If I knew what it was, I'd undo it. That woman scares the _hell_ outta me." He rubbed his chin. "Wait a minute, why do you care?"

Gaius blushed. "Look, man, normally it takes some kinda dark magic to make a girl feel like that. Just wanna if you did anything that I can duplicate."

Pyrrhus noticed the blush, and also caught Gaius's hand twitching lightly. Gaius did twitch occasionally, but that was usually from a sugar rush. "You want to bed her, don't you?" he asked casually, although he was actually quite surprised to have happened upon that revelation.

Gaius dropped his spoon into his stew with a plunk. He leaned in closely and dropped his voice. "Okay, fine. But have you seen her... ample tomes?"

"Never heard _that_ euphemism before." Pyrrhus hid a smile.

Gaius picked his spoon back up and took another bite. "All I'm saying is, she's got a smokin' body. The fact that you haven't noticed that aside, _someone_ clearly needs access to the... dark magic... she's got locked up."

"I should just call you 'Mr. Locksmith,'" Pyrrhus replied mockingly. "And I _did_ notice her... but I enjoy having my... _parts..._ precisely where they are." Pyrrhus took a bite of stew and chewed it contemplatively for several seconds before swallowing. "I'll tell you what, next time I get a chance, I'll send the two of you off to battle together. That's about the limit of my power, but at least you'll have a chance to put your honeyed words to work."

Gaius finished his stew and gave Pyrrhus a pat on the shoulder. "You're a good friend."

"No, _I_ call it friendship, _you_ call it motivated self-interest," Pyrrhus replied sarcastically.

"But there's something else you could do."

"Oh?"

"Well, you asked me about getting over a girl. Try _not_ getting over her. If Tharja sees you and some other chick happy together, might help her break off her obsession with you."

"...And make it easier for you to work your own dark magic," Pyrrhus finished.

"Well... it certainly couldn't _hurt_ my chances," Gaius said innocently.

Pyrrhus sighed. "I'll see what I can do." Gaius departed.

It was a lie, of course. Pyrrhus sat there and spent the next half hour plotting out ways to get over Cordelia. In all that time, he couldn't come up with anything. The problem now was that they'd formed a schedule. He couldn't just start canceling plans without her getting suspicious, especially since, again, he had nothing else to do. He could try getting into some sort of big fight with her, but that was a hornet's nest of trouble. It would have to be one hell of a disagreement, and the most likely outcome there was that a mutual friend like Sumia might try to arbitrate. He considered sending her to the Risen Team, but she'd treat it like a demotion, or an insult, or both, and there'd be an argument, not to mention both the lack of justification and the necessity of sending her back on one of their now-fully occupied ships.

He departed the galley and spotted Chrom again, who apparently had finished his argument with Sumia. Pyrrhus couldn't help himself.

"So, what's the word? You talk Sumia into letting you make stupid mistakes?" As if there was any question.

Chrom frowned. "I am no longer allowed to deviate from battle orders unless I'm accompanied by Sumia, Lucina, or you."

Pyrrhus smiled, trying very hard not to laugh at his friend's expense.

He did not succeed. "Ahahaha! Oh, man, sometimes I don't envy you, Chrom."

Chrom nodded. "And sometimes I envy you." The prince sighed. "Marriage. Sometimes, it's just-"

"Yup."

"And other times, it's so-"

"Yup." Pyrrhus gave Chrom a pat on the shoulder. "Give her some time, maybe. She's just worried about you." It was the truth, but Pyrrhus doubted that any amount of time would assuage her fear; more likely, it would only worsen. There was approximately zero chance that Chrom would actually obey her command. Pyrrhus had a difficult enough time getting him to follow regular battle orders. Then again, Sumia had means of persuading Chrom that weren't available to the tactician. Perhaps her methods would be more successful than calling him a damn fool and insisting he's running straight to his grave.

Chrom's deadpan expression gave way to a more solemn one. "I'm worried too, but not about myself." He took a breath. "How many lives did we end today, Pyrrhus?"

The tactician frowned. It wasn't something he wanted to think about. After all, it had been _his_ ruse. "I don't know. Tens of thousands."

"How many wives and children will never see their fathers again from what we did today?"

"How many wives and children did we _save_ by stopping that invasion fleet?"

Chrom sighed. "I know. You have to focus on that, but... I can't help but wonder what my sister would have said or done if she'd been here."

Pyrrhus leaned against the bulkhead. "You know her better than I did. But I know she wouldn't have been angry at you."

"No, but she would have been angry."

"She wanted peace, Chrom. We're going to Valm to bring peace. She'd understand."

"You're right, Pyrrhus. If my soul is to be damned for our actions today, then so be it." Chrom walked up the steps onto the deck.

Pyrrhus chuckled darkly. "If anyone's to be damned for what happened today, it'll be me." And he was okay with that. Because in the end, he had the plan, he knew the consequences, and he made the call. Not because of hatred, or fear. It was love. Love of the Shepherds, the only family he had ever known, love for the country that had opened its arms to him, and love for the peace and prosperity that had occupied the bulk of his last two years. If he could have found another way, he'd have taken it, but as awful as those deaths were, it was nothing compared the the potential future ahead of them.

* * *

**A/N:** That's Chapter 5. It's really difficult to have a discussion of the morality of killing in wartime in the context of a Fire Emblem game. Consider that most of these people would, by any modern standard, be considered war criminals. I've played through Awakening a couple times now and most of those characters have a kill count in the _hundreds_. Even if, say, half of those kills are Risen, that's a ludicrous number of deaths to have on one's conscience. This is about the deepest I'm going to get into that particular minefield. The rest will be handwaved by the MST3K Mantra.

I probably spent more time than I should have trying to come up with a realistic number for the period of time they'd need to spend at sea. I looked into historical ships a bunch. The command ship they're using is actually larger than the famous Santa Maria, the largest of Columbus' ships. The problem is that you need a ship which can ferry people across an ocean, but you don't have gunpowder. It may seem incongruous for those two objects to be of mutual necessity, but it's the case. Before the invention of gunpowder, the primary naval combat maneuver was to ram your enemy amidships. As a result, you wanted your ship powered by loads of oarsmen, which give you finer control than sails and a better "sprinting" speed at the cost of a slower travel speed and a reliance upon nearby ports for resupply. Catapults and even ballistae were too bulky to carry on most ships. Remember, you have to carry the ammunition too, and filling your ships with rocks is just going to slow you down.

Long story short, I modeled the Plegian navy after the early age of exploration vessels known as carracks and caravels. By that assumption, it took Columbus something like six weeks to cross the Atlantic, so I'm figuring something like 3 weeks to a month for the ships to cross the central ocean of the Fire Emblem world. That's my best guess.

Several of you reviewers (thanks for those!) were asking about Cynthia. She'll definitely be _in_ the story, but I'm not certain how substantial her role will be. I'm not sure how to introduce her except that it won't be like in the game, because confusing some chump for her father puts her in the "mentally challenged" camp. Most of the kids are going to be found by the Risen Team, and I might lump Cynthia in with that for simplicity. I don't want to overload on characters because I don't want to dilute characterization. This chapter, for example, I used to show a bit more of Chrom's personality. I want to finish the story, which means making sure it doesn't go on forever, and that means limiting my character focus.

Next chapter, the Pyrrhus/Cordelia thing will start coming to a head, the group will meet Say'ri and we will begin the part of the story inspired by Game of Thrones.


	6. Chapter 6

The rest of the ocean voyage remained relatively uneventful. There were some occasional hiccups, run-ins with Valmese scouts and the like, but nothing that could compare to that singular battle. As for Pyrrhus, he found more ways to keep occupied. He spent time with Maribelle, learning to act more gentlemanly and teaching her the people's vernacular in return. He played cards with Gaius and the others, although after a point they stopped using money and instead traded in more tangible commodities (bars of soap, flasks of wine, that sort of thing). He had lessons in the lance with Frederick, argued philosophy with Miriel, and had Cherche school him in cooking. He was starting to consider himself quite the polymath, branching out from his sole study of tactics and embracing a wider education.

As for his relationship with Cordelia, they still had a few lessons, but Pyrrhus noticed her become more distant. She seemed a bit more nervous around him as well, but he decided that it was probably just the combination of cabin fever and the events of their naval battle. She was not the only person treating him differently after his actions that day. A few seemed to admire his conviction; chief among that group were the khans of Regna Ferox. Flavia had even gone so far as to offer him a position after the war, which he of course declined. Others avoided him: Nowi, for one, and Ricken too. They had seen what he was willing to do for his beliefs, and perhaps they did not like it. Regardless, Pyrrhus had neither the time nor the patience to push the issue with them. He would give them their space, so long as they continued to stick to the plan in battle.

On the morning of the twenty-ninth day of their voyage, Pyrrhus sat reading in an empty galley. It was a book he'd read before, but he was out of unread books and had an hour to kill before his lance lessons. It was sitting in that small room that Lucina found him.

"Morning, El," Pyrrhus muttered as the woman entered. "Coffee's fresh, you want some?"

Lucina nodded. Pyrrhus grabbed the pot and poured a cup of black brew, then handed it to her. "Thanks."

"Mhmm."

Lucina took a careful sip. "Pegasus knights have spotted land. Should be there in a few hours."

Pyrrhus closed his book. "Is that so?" He'd have to talk to Frederick and reschedule then. "Well, that's great. Getting pretty sick of this boat."

Lucina trilled her fingers on the galley table. "You have a plan, I presume, for landfall? The port where we're landing will be occupied."

"I don't doubt it," Pyrrhus replied. "I have some ideas. Fortunately, our scouts have done an excellent job of denying the Valmese any information. They've probably just learned we're attacking, so we'll have them unprepared. More importantly, it should demoralize them to see the ships we captured and realize that we beat their invasion fleet."

"'Beat' is a bit of an understatement. Hell, _decimated_ doesn't even do it justice."

"What word would you use, El?"

"I was thinking 'obliterated,' actually," Lucina replied. "There's going to be a lot of civilians at this port. I'm hoping that your plans will account for this?" She look another sip of coffee, but her eyes didn't leave Pyrrhus's face.

The tactician frowned. "If you have concerns about the way I plan attacks, I suggest you bring it up with your father. He's the one who put me in charge."

Lucina narrowed her eyes at him. "I do not doubt the efficacy of your tactics, I doubt the-"

Pyrrhus cut her off. "Those men weren't innocent. They were trained killers, and any one of them who believed in _this_ schlock," he pulled Walhart's manifesto from his pocket and threw it at Lucina, "would have done the same to us. You haven't been a Shepherd for very long, so I'm going to cut you some slack. I do _not_ murder innocents. If you'd been following at our side instead of skulking in our shadows these last few years, you'd have known that."

Lucina gave him a look that was equal parts confusion and anger. She gave several false starts at speaking before finally blurting out, "That's not what I heard!" She threw Walhart's book back on the table.

"Well then you _heard_ incorrectly." Pyrrhus took both books and left for his bunk. What was her problem? Who could she have been talking to? Chrom would have spoken in his defense. Sumia and Lissa, he couldn't be as sure, but neither were treating him much differently, and both had ample evidence that he did not kill without thought.

Ultimately, it didn't matter. Lucina would figure it out in time. Pyrrhus chose to focus on the task at hand.

* * *

Pyrrhus, Frederick, and Chrom were the first off the boat onto the beach when they arrived. Their ship had anchored out to the south of the port, and the Shepherds had taken longboats to shore. They would secure the port for the fleet and allow the army to disembark.

Pyrrhus grabbed his lance and shield off the boat. "We ready to go?"

Chrom nodded. "Think so, just waiting for news from above."

As if on queue, Sumia's pegasus dropped from the air like a rock. Landing directly in front of Chrom, she shouted her discovery. "We've got a problem! The soldiers here are attacking an unarmed woman! She looks to be evading them but that won't last forever, she's surrounded."

Pyrrhus sighed. This was going to be tricky.

Chrom didn't notice. "Okay, Sumia and I will go save her, everyone hold here."

Pyrrhus grabbed the prince's arm. "Like hell you are! What if it's a trap? I'll go, you're staying here and holding the line."

Chrom glared at the tactician. "Fine. Maybe you're right. But you can't get there alone."

"That's why we have more than one pegasus knight," Pyrrhus replied. "Cordelia!"

"Sir!" Pyrrhus turned around to see the red-haired woman astride her pegasus and awaiting orders.

"You can get me to that woman?"

Cordelia nodded. "I saw her; I can get you there."

"No time to waste, let's go." Despite his armor, he managed to get onto Diomedes without trouble. Pyrrhus looked down to Chrom. "Hold the line against their initial rush, then move in once their cavalry disperses."

"Be careful, you two," Chrom cautioned, then gave Diomedes a gentle smack on the rear. Cordelia took the reins and the pair shot into the sky.

A hundred feet in the air, Pyrrhus took stock of the battlefield. The port was quite large, with a dock facility built to accommodate at least a dozen large ships at a time, as well as perhaps fifty or so smaller fishing vessels. There was a neighborhood of small houses nearby, probably to serve as homes for dock workers and fishermen, as well as larger buildings for the harbormaster and all the other bureaucracy in such a place. Military command seemed to come from a tower on the western side of the town, farthest inland. Troops were mobilizing to respond to the incoming attack, and one man on a black horse appeared to be giving orders. Despite the ruckus caused by the Shepherds's presence, Pyrrhus had no trouble spotting the disturbance in the soldiers' ranks caused by the fleeing woman. "See her, Cordelia?"

"Y-yes, I see her." Was that a stutter? With that damn helmet on, Pyrrhus still couldn't get any signals.

"Drop me in between her and the soldiers, then swoop around. Watch my back, I might need help."

"I will do that," she mumbled.

Okay, _that_ was odd. "Cordelia, are you all right?"

"I'm fine! Totally fine, no problem at all!" she insisted.

She couldn't possibly have thought that a convincing lie, could she? "What's going on, Cordelia? You seem _really_ nervous."

Her head twitched a bit. "Think I'm just a bit lightheaded, climbed too fast, spent too much time on the ship." She coughed, then cleared her throat.

Pyrrhus was understandably concerned. "If you're not feeling well, why didn't you say something? Don't worry about coming back for me. I can handle those soldiers, just drop me off and get back to the ship."

"N-no, I couldn't possibly... Ugh. I can't let you go alone, not when I can..." She trailed off, took several deep breaths, and then continued. "I will be fine."

"You're no good to me if you get killed, Cordelia. If you're not at your best-"

_"I'm fine!"_ She shouted, catching Pyrrhus by surprise.

"Okay," relented Pyrrhus. "Then like I said, drop me off and pull back around."

Cordelia maneuvered into a dive, and down they went. Just as before, she pulled up at the last possible moment, having Diomedes spread his wings and releasing Pyrrhus. The knight fell maybe ten feet before hitting the ground next to a pair of enemy soldiers, rolling to break his fall.

He stood, lance in hand, and found himself next to the woman they had been trying to save. "Need a hand?" he asked casually.

"If you're offering," she replied, looking back and forth between a pair of heavily-armored men that had her cornered.

"No problem." He whipped around with his lance, hitting one in the armor gap at the shoulder, then spun around and cut along the neck of the other. Both fell at once. With the momentary problem handled, he looked back at the stranger, raising the visor of his armet to look at her more clearly. "They call me Pyrrhus." He offered a gauntleted hand in greeting.

Her gloved hand took it. "I am called Say'ri. It is a pleasure to meet a member of the Ylissean League. I would speak with your leader."

Pyrrhus nodded. "I can get you to him, but we need to seize this port first so that our ships can dock."

Say'ri grabbed a sword off one of the corpses. "I will aid you in this task. I was headed to a place that is sympathetic to our cause. They have information that you will find useful."

Cordelia landed. "What's the word?" she asked.

Pyrrhus pointed at the new woman. "This is Say'ri, she's a friend. She's taking me to a place near here with information. Stay overhead, keep the skies clear, would you? She's safe with me." He beckoned her closer with a finger. Cordelia leaned down from her perch, and Pyrrhus whispered in her ear. "If I think I'm walking into a trap, I'll signal you."

Cordelia saluted and took off once more. Pyrrhus turned to Say'ri. "Lead the way."

The next several minutes were a blur to the tactician as he followed the woman through countless twists and turns, alleys and side-roads, punctuated by the occasional soldier attacking. Up close, the houses all seemed more like shacks than real homes. They were run down, many had boarded-up windows, and there were no idle citizens walking the streets. It felt more like a ghost town to Pyrrhus than an active mercantile center. Meanwhile, the sound of battle remained ever-present in the air; judging by the location of the sound, they were in the northern part of the town, a bit west of the main action.

Say'ri slowed to a walk as they approached their final destination, and Pyrrhus was gasping for air. It had been a month since he'd had a good run, and his armor was considerably heavier than the woman's. She checked the building carefully while Pyrrhus leaned on his knees to catch his breath.

"Something's wrong," she said suddenly. "I don't see the watchman."

She snuck up to the house, Pyrrhus right behind her. He noticed that the door wasn't fully closed. He grabbed her arm to get her to stop, and took the lead. Leaning with his back against the wall, he inched towards the open door, lance at the ready. When he got to the threshold and saw dried blood, he spun around, kicked open the door, and entered in one smooth motion.

It was a ghastly scene. The house accommodations were simple to begin with: rough-hewn wooden tables and chairs, but the tables were overturned and the chairs were shattered. But that wasn't what he noticed first. The first thing he noticed were the bodies. There were at least a dozen, men and women both, all piled together in the center of the room unceremoniously.

"Oh, gods!" Say'ri shouted from behind him, pushing her way past him and dashing for the pile.

Pyrrhus approached more cautiously. Judging by the smell, they'd been dead maybe a day. The woman collapsed before the macabre spectacle, falling to her knees and weeping. "These were my _friends!_ Ishtar, Yensef, Do'ni!"

He approached her cautiously. "Say'ri, we don't have time to linger, battle is upon us. Where is this information?"

Say'ri rubbed tears from her eyes and stood. "If it were still here, it would be with... Bironir! Oh, gods, no..." Pyrrhus followed her gaze.

"Oh, gods," he muttered, holding his left hand over his mouth in shock. "Why... why would you give military data to a _child?"_ He stumbled over to the small corpse. Bironir could not have been older than twelve. It took every ounce of his willpower not to retch, and he knew that the image of this poor soul would haunt his dreams for weeks to come.

Say'ri no longer tried to hold back the tears. "The resistance has been desperate, and the soldiers tend not to notice children... I never thought..." she trailed off.

Pyrrhus gently checked the pockets of the child's clothes. "Nothing here, they must have taken it from him when they..." Pyrrhus stood and took several deep breaths. "Say'ri, we have to go. We can see these bodies receive a proper burial later." He grabbed her arm and lifted her from the ground. She didn't seem to notice.

"Hey, hey!" he shouted. "We need to go!"

She nodded feebly, and Pyrrhus helped her stumble out of the unhallowed sepulchre.

They were greeted by Cordelia, waiting outside, helmet off and standing beside Diomedes. "What took you so long, you-" she stopped when she saw the somber looks on their faces. "What happened, are you okay?" She walked towards the door, but Pyrrhus grabbed her.

"No!" he shouted, eyes wide. She looked back at him in sudden terror, and he took a deep breath before continuing at a normal volume. "You don't want to go in there, Cordelia._ Trust me_ in that, for your own sake."

She nodded warily. "Okay. We ready to go?"

"Not quite," he replied. Pyrrhus turned to Say'ri. "You. That sort of execution could not have been carried out by a common soldier. Those bodies had electrical burns. You will tell me who is responsible _right now._" He felt his blood rising, and did not bother to quell it. For such an egregious crime, there would be blood spilled today.

Say'ri, noticing the change in Pyrrhus's attitude, backed away a bit. "The city is under martial law. It would have to be the captain of the guard. Farber is his name. He rides a black horse, and should be easy to spot."

Pyrrhus thought back to his bird's-eye view of the town behind Cordelia. There was a man on a black horse there. "Cordelia, take Say'ri back to the others." He turned and began walking south, back towards the battle.

"Where are you going?" she asked nervously.

"I'm going to find that man. He has _no idea_ what's about to hit him." He gripped his lance tightly.

Cordelia called to him, but Pyrrhus could no longer hear it. Rage took him, and he welcomed the freedom from the pain he'd found in that house as he hurried towards the battle to the south. He vaguely heard the sounds of a pair of soldiers patrolling the area, but silenced them each with a blade through the heart. The bloodshed did nothing to curb his hunger for justice, merely whetting his appetite for more. The sounds of the battle proper drew nearer, the battle cries, the clash of steel on steel, and the anguished shouts of death. An axeman spotted his approach of the guard tower and tried to slay him, but found himself impaled. As he twisted the lance, Pyrrhus felt the life flee the soldier, and blood spattered his armor. A cloaked man jumped at his side, but Pyrrhus shook him off and struck him down without a thought.

Finally, he reached the parade grounds before the town's main guard tower. Several dozen men and women were there, all heavily armed. He barely noticed that the other Shepherds were at the far end of the field, and most of the enemy soldiers were moving in that direction. The whole of his vision was consumed with the man standing in the back, astride the black horse, with an armed guard at each side and a lightning tome in his hand.

He broke into a run, not remotely as tired as he'd been after following Say'ri. The man called Farber looked away from the main attack force and spotted the lone knight charging him, ordered his two guards to intercept.

"Farber!" Pyrrhus shouted, more guttural roar than word. The first of the two men closed in, but Pyrrhus brought his lance around, tripped him up, and plunged the tip through his heart without breaking stride. The second found himself eating a metal fist before falling to the ground. This time Pyrrhus paused to drive the sharpened end of his shield down onto the man's neck before continuing onwards.

Vaguely, he heard something like the words 'kill him' from Farber's mouth, but Pyrrhus wasn't listening. But there were no other men close enough; all the others were fighting other Shepherds. Farber pulled his horse and rode to meet his opponent, hand crackling with electricity.

The first bolt tore through his armor and ripped across his flesh, but he barely felt it. He was _so close._ He leveled the lance as he closed the final dozen feet to the horseman. The lance caught Farber in the chest and unhorsed him, knocking the soldier to the ground on his back. The horse, no longer under control, turned and fled.

Pyrrhus stood over his foe, lance in both hands, ready to plunge it downward and end this pitiful being's existence. As the lance came down, a second bolt blasted him in the chest, knocking the tactician back for a split second and giving Farber the chance to roll to the side and miss the deadly point. Pyrrhus kicked him in the head with his boot, stunning the man and stopping him from doing that again.

Shaking in fury, he brought the lance down, right into Farber's heart.

He didn't stop there. He pulled the lance out and drove it home again and again, shouting a bloodthirsty battle cry all the while. At least a dozen times he struck, until finally his bitter rage was completely spent. The weapon slipped from his hands, and he noticed for the first time the bloody mess that had been his adversary. And then there was pain, pain in every atom of his being, and he fell to the ground, and the daylight and the harbor slipped away.

* * *

"Looks like he's waking up."

Pyrrhus opened his eyes to a blurry face and the ceiling of the medical tent. Based on the bizarre shape of the blonde hair around the face, it was Lissa. His first coherent thought was how odd it was that so many members of the Shepherds had such distinctive hair styles. In fact, that was addressed in his first words.

"So pointy... like antlers."

Lissa frowned at him. "Strange, I didn't think there was any brain damage."

Pyrrhus heard a second voice. "Well, he _did_ get shocked a few times, might have scrambled him up a bit." Sounded like Cordelia.

Lissa left his field of view. "Chrom, I think he's awake."

His vision finally cleared, and Pyrrhus began to stir. He was lying on a cot in the medical tent, as he thought. The blanket was quite warm and comfortable, and he seemed to be out of his armor. He tried to sit up, but was wracked with pain in his side. It did an excellent job of waking him up the rest of the way. He clenched his jaw so as not to scream. There were no other patients in the tent, but Cordelia was sitting on a chair next to his cot, and Lissa was letting Chrom in.

The prince walked over with a big smile. "Hey there, pal, you gave us quite a scare. How you feeling?"

Pyrrhus thought for a moment. "Mostly pain."

Chrom nodded. "I suspected as much. Lissa, you ready to take care of this?"

The princess nodded and walked back over, staff in hand. "Almost ready, just make sure he holds still."

Pyrrhus tried to think back as Lissa pulled back the blanket and revealed a cloth bandage wrapped around his side. "What happened to me?" he asked.

Cordelia took over. "You got stabbed, you idiot. What did you _think_ was going to happen?"

He remembered most of the fight, up until he'd killed Farber, but had no recollection of a stabbing. "How did I get stabbed? There was nobody near me when I collapsed."

Cordelia stared at him. "You got stabbed way before that, in the alleys. The stabbing was what _caused_ the collapse, you lost too much blood."

Pyrrhus did remember a man jumping at his side. Perhaps it was then? "Oh. Well, that makes sense I guess."

Chrom chuckled. "Well, now you know what it's like to be me and make stupid mistakes, huh?"

At Lissa's request, Pyrrhus leaned over onto his right side to grant her better access to his wound. She pulled back the bandage and Pyrrhus got his first look at the injury. It was a vicious open gash, but it looked like it was already mostly healed. "I was going to ask why I had to be awake for this healing, but I guess I already missed the fun parts?"

"If that's what you call closing up the torn muscles and spleen, then yes, you missed _the fun part,"_ Lissa replied. "It's not that we were trying to wake you on purpose, we just don't have any milk of the poppy to keep you out, since it's all still on the ships. Fortunately, this shouldn't be too bad. Just try not to jostle me, okay?"

Pyrrhus tried very hard to hold still despite the awkward positioning he was trying to maintain. Looking away from the wound, he noticed that Cordelia was quietly smoldering at him. "What're you doing here, anyway?" he asked.

Cordelia's look became an angry glare. _"What am I doing here?_ You told me to watch your back! Who do you think ferried your near-corpse back here when you collapsed?"

"Hold still!" Lissa shouted, as Pyrrhus had tried to shift away from Cordelia's oncoming tirade.

"We're supposed to be a team!" Cordelia shouted. "All of the Shepherds work as a team! Every battle you stress teamwork over isolation, then you get yourself all pissed off and just about get yourself killed! That level of hypocrisy is just... unfathomable! Who the hell do you think you are?"

Pyrrhus was speechless. Lissa took that as an opportunity to enact a bit more work, eliciting a hiss of pain that spurred him back to speech. "I don't know what happened."

"You're our _tactician_, for gods' sakes! You have to hold yourself to a higher standard! If you allow yourself to let fly half-nocked like that, how do you expect anyone else not to?"

The shouting had roused Pyrrhus's ire, and he began to respond in kind. "Oh, and who are you to reprimand _me?_ Last I checked, I'm not one of your little pegasus knight recruits! Last I checked, there's one person in this army who can command me, and that's Chrom! I give _you_ orders, you arrogant woman! And that man murdered a _kid_, I wasn't about to let him escape!"

"I saved your life!"

"He murdered a kid!"

"Ingrate!"

"Harridan!"

"Hypocrite!"

"Insubordinate- _dammit_, Lissa!" He dropped back to the bed in pain as Lissa finished up her work. "Did you stick that staff in the forgefire before you used it on me?" He gripped the metal side of the cot so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Lissa finally pulled away. "There, all done! You're the absolute _worst_ patient I've ever had!" She stood up and set the staff aside. "He needs rest now, so everyone clear out."

Cordelia stood and walked out in a huff, while Chrom said his farewell. "Don't think I've ever seen Cordelia so worked up. Strange. Anyway, we won the day despite your solo tactics. The first round of ships is already offloading soldiers. You rest up, because we'll need you tomorrow." He shook Pyrrhus's hand and left with Lissa.

The pain in his side quickly fading, Pyrrhus laid back and pulled up his shirt. Apparently Lissa or one of the other healers had already seen to his lightning burns while he'd been unconscious. At least he wouldn't have to deal with that. And now he'd gotten himself into a fine mess with Cordelia, which was less than ideal. And that thing with Lucina earlier... this was not a good day for him interacting with women.

He put his shirt back down and rolled over onto his stomach to sleep. Even though he'd been unconscious for at least an hour or two, he felt exhausted. Probably the healing, he reasoned. It took only a few minutes for him to drift off to sleep.

* * *

Pyrrhus awoke to several seconds of blissful ignorance before memory kicked in. The realization that he was in the medical tent still, that he had been recovering, and that he now felt more or less normal was dwarfed by the recognition of his relationship predicament. He turned over onto his back and found that he was not alone. Cordelia had resumed her place at his side, and the sight of him stirring had brought her to action as well.

"How're you feeling?" she asked.

"A lot better," he replied raspily. His mouth felt like sandpaper.

She handed him a canteen. "Here."

Pyrrhus took several drafts of water before handing it back to her. "Thanks," he said, then cleared his throat. "If you'd like to yell at me some more, I think I can take it."

Cordelia shook her head. "No, I'm all done yelling."

Pyrrhus smiled. "Oh, good. I guess that means I can start apologizing then."

Cordelia waved her hand. "No, I understand, it's all right-"

"No, it's not," he interrupted her. "I yelled at you, and that's never all right. You were looking out for me, and..." he paused to make sure he worded everything properly, "Your insistence that I maintain a higher standard for myself than the rest of the Shepherds and that I retain constant command of my faculties is good advice. In the future, I will exercise more caution not to let my anger get the better of me."

"Thank you," she replied, smiling faintly. "And I'm sorry that I chose such a poor moment to express that. You had me so worried, and I channeled that concern into anger when you spoke so casually of nearly getting yourself killed."

"I understand. If you'd done something like I did, I'd have been upset at you too."

"And..." her voice dropped a degree. "Thank you for, the, uhh... not letting me see the..."

"Right." Pyrrhus frowned. "Nobody needs to see that kind of thing. What's happening about it?"

"Libra is going to move the bodies and consecrate them for a proper burial tomorrow."

"Good, good." Pyrrhus thought for a few seconds. "So why were you watching me sleep? Is there something you need to tell me?"

Cordelia blushed. "I wasn't watching you sleep! I just wanted to apologize!"

"Okay, well, if I ever try something like that again, you just hit me on the back of the head with your lance. Blunt end, if you please."

"I'll treat that as an order." Cordelia gave him a smirk.

At that moment, Chrom walked in. "Hey, you're up just in time for dinner!"

Pyrrhus turned his head to see him. "Is that so? Good, I'm starving!"

Chrom walked over to the side of the cot opposite Cordelia. "Lissa says you're fine to walk. Let's get you up. Cordelia, give him a hand, would you?" He grabbed Pyrrhus's left hand with his own, and motioned for Cordelia to take Pyrrhus's right.

"O-of course!" Cordelia said, jumping to her feet. She reached out her hand to grab Pyrrhus and then started blinking. She sat back down in her chair. "F-forgive me, but I think I stood up too fast."

Pyrrhus shot her a concerned look, and Chrom addressed her. "That's all right, Cordelia, you sit down. I think I can get this knucklehead out of bed myself." Chrom grabbed Pyrrhus's other hand and helped the tactician stand up. "You good to go?"

Pyrrhus nodded, and looked back at Cordelia. "You okay?"

Cordelia nodded, face red. "Yeah, sure. I just need a minute. You two go on ahead."

The duo walked to the exit of the tent. Right as he ducked his head out, Pyrrhus heard that distinctive, heart-wrenching _sigh_ that made him realize what was wrong with her. So stricken was she by Chrom that she couldn't even work with him to get a man out of bed. That was probably what had her so flustered during the attack, that Chrom had spoken to her. As he walked to dinner alongside his best friend, he felt a surge of jealousy, followed by pangs of guilt. It wasn't right to be jealous of your best friend, especially when he'd done nothing wrong. Pyrrhus buried those feelings, hoping they'd stay buried more securely than the ones he had for Cordelia.

* * *

**A/N:** Many thanks to all of you who continue to review, I appreciate it! I had a discussion via PM with a reviewer (Guardian54) who pointed out some inconsistencies that I've missed between my writing and the reference material. Specifically, it's said that the Ylissean's combined forces are in the hundreds of thousands, but the type of ships I described cannot carry anywhere near that many soldiers. As of right now, I'm putting the Ylissean League's total soldier count in my story at around 50,000. That's in violation of the game, but I actually like that number better anyway. Still, I do appreciate the notice, as I strive for a high level of verisimilitude in my writing.

I have plans for this story to run out to the end of the game, and to that end I've laid down foreshadowing that won't pay off until then. Also, sorry to those of you who assumed that "the Pyrrhus/Cordelia thing will start coming to a head" would mean an end to the will they/won't they. Never fear, I'm not a fan of wtwt and will dispatch with it soon. Lastly, If you're having difficulty understanding where Lucina was coming from in this chapter, that is intentional.

Next chapter, the Shepherds will begin the Valm campaign with Rosanne (which was never really mentioned again in-game), and Pyrrhus will miss some important signals (as if he hasn't already!)


	7. Chapter 7

The next day was spent solidifying Ylissean hold on the port. Thousands of men had to be offloaded and camps set up for them. Pyrrhus found these sorts of basic logistics enjoyable in the same way one might enjoy a novice crossword puzzle: he had to think about it, but it wasn't remotely straining or stressful. It was busy work, which always did a good job of keeping him out of his head. The locals were quite pleased that liberation had come, and offered up a modest amount of fresh supplies. Not enough to keep the army fed, but more than sufficient for a celebratory meal for everyone.

The next morning, feeling refreshed and ready to work, Pyrrhus met with the small council and a few extra hands to come up with a long-term plan. Aside from the customary Chrom, Sumia, Frederick, and himself, Lucina had become a regular, and Virion and Say'ri were both in attendance.

Chrom started the meeting. "Now that our army is ready to march, we must decide how best to use it. Virion, you had a suggestion?"

"Of course," the noble said, bowing elegantly. "Although our long-term goal is the defeat of Walhart, I believe that it would be in our best interest to free Rosanne first."

Chrom thought for a moment. "Although I am sympathetic to the plight of your people, Duke Virion, we are outnumbered here. We can hardly afford to waste our soldiers on freeing every captured country from Walhart's grasp."

"Rosanne is far more important than you think," Virion replied. "Our rolling fields of wheat and barley provide much of the continent with flour, and our livestock is ample and lean!"

Pyrrhus widened his eyes. "Rosanne is this continent's breadbasket?"

"Ah, that's the word I was looking for! Yes, my tactical friend, that's it precisely. Walhart took Rosanne that he might feed his burgeoning army. Without the hay from our fields and the flour from our mills, his army will have much difficulty lasting the winter."

Pyrrhus crunched a few numbers in his head. "Do you know roughly what percentage of the continent's staples Rosanne provides?"

Virion shook his head. "I can hazard no more than a guess. Cherche would be able to provide an exact number. I would give a conservative estimate of maybe twenty percent?"

Pyrrhus very nearly fell over. "Twenty percent? Chrom, if that number is correct-"

Chrom nodded. "Don't need to be a tactician to know how big a blow that would be."

Pyrrhus continued. "It's still spring; the farmers will have only just finished planting their crops. If we retake Rosanne before the end of summer, starvation will do much of our work for us."

"I like this plan," Chrom said. "I like it a lot. Say'ri, you know these lands well. What do you think?"

Say'ri thought for a moment. "It is a sound idea, but right now you need more soldiers. I would offer an alternate suggestion. If we can rally the Resistance under a single banner, your troops would quadruple overnight. You have brought many thousands of men with you, but it is said that Walhart's army is a million strong."

"One _million,_ you said? That can't possibly be right," Lucina insisted.

Say'ri barked a single laugh. "I have heard of your battle on the ocean. I have no doubt that your men will be equal to the challenge... so long as the Resistance is united with us."

Chrom noticed that Pyrrhus hadn't spoken in a bit. "What do you think?" he asked the tactician.

Pyrrhus replied carefully. "One million men... is less than it sounds. He will have his army stretched wide, keeping control of all his new holdings, while ours will be concentrated. If we choose our battles carefully, I am confident that we can maintain an advantage. But Say'ri is correct in that having four times the soldiers, soldiers who know the land and fight for their own homes, will be a great benefit."

"Well then, Say'ri, how would you suggest that we unite the Resistance?" Chrom asked.

"Our people are worshipers of the divine dragon, Naga, and her oracle, the Lady Tiki. Currently, the oracle is being held by members of Walhart's army: one of his finest generals, no less. They have turned her temple into a prison as a way to keep the Resistance in fear."

"You're suggesting that we free this Lady Tiki then. The Resistance would unite around her?" Pyrrhus asked.

"Indeed. Her temple is within the branches of the divine Mila Tree, a few days march from here. If we free her and join her to our cause, we can count on the Resistance to aid us."

Chrom tapped his hand on Falchion's sheath. "Two possible objectives, one cripples our foe, the other boosts us. We have until the harvest to secure Rosanne, so I say we free this Lady Tiki first."

"No," Pyrrhus replied. "We'll do both at the same time."

"Why divide our forces?" asked Say'ri.

Virion intervened. "Because Pyrrhus knows tactics better than either of you, apparently."

"Well yeah, but it's my job," Pyrrhus agreed. "The army proper will retake Rosanne while the Shepherds free Lady Tiki. The Shepherds will make the pretense of attempting to conquer the Mila Tree to use it as a defensive outpost. The commanding officer will call for reinforcements, but we will strike hard and fast before they can arrive, rescue Lady Tiki, and leave. By the time the enemy reinforcements reach the Mila Tree, we'll be long gone and our army will have a head start at Rosanne. Besides, if the Resistance joins us, they'll need to eat too. We barely have enough supplies for our own men."

"Rosanne has only two primary defenses," Virion explained. "Castle Virion is the first, and most defensible. There is also a large walled town in the west known as Mikal. If you capture both, Rosanne will be mine, err yours... Ours?"

"Why am I not surprised that you named the castle after yourself?" Chrom asked.

Virion gasped in shock. "I am insulted, Prince Chrom! It is a family name! My father was named Virion, and his father, and his father! My great-great-grandfather, in fact, was the one who built Castle Virion and named it."

"I can hardly imagine what fun Cherche and her comrades had in a castle filled with Virions," mused Pyrrhus. "Say'ri, I trust you're okay with this plan?"

Say'ri sighed. "The plan has merit. If you can believe you can accomplish both objectives, then I do not object."

* * *

That afternoon, the army, led by Flavia, began the march south to Castle Virion. Pyrrhus and the Shepherds, however, left to the east for the Mila Tree. They had ample time to kill, for Rosanne was a week's march, and Castle Virion another two days from the border. Their march was an easy one, for which Pyrrhus was very thankful. He felt remarkably out of shape and spent several hours getting re-accustomed to his armor.

That evening, they stopped to rest in a lovely meadow divided in half by a sparkling stream running down to the coast. Camp was set leisurely, camp chores were divvied up, and the Shepherds had a fine evening.

Before dinner, Pyrrhus had lance lessons with Frederick. Lance in hand, he walked over to the knight's tent to retrieve him.

"Hey Freddy, you here?" he called, smacking against the tent flap. He knew Frederick hated that name. Matter of fact, he hated to be called Fred too. It bothered Pyrrhus, because the tactician's name was not amenable to nicknames. What would he go by, Pir? He envied Frederick, just a bit, for a name that could so easily be shortened.

Frederick pushed the tent flap open, wearing a particularly disgruntled frown. "Sorry, Pyrrhus. Have to cancel tonight. Find someone else."

Pyrrhus scoffed. "Really? What's so important you have to cancel?"

Frederick switched from frown to calm smile. "I'm glad you asked. I'm helping Chrom with an anniversary present for Sumia."

"As long as it's not another 'Naked Chrom Poster,' okay?" Pyrrhus interrupted. "I understand Vaike still has nightmares about that."

"It is nothing of the sort," Frederick replied. "As a matter of fact, it was _his _idea. Regardless, you will have to find someone else to practice with tonight."

"Oh, fine," Pyrrhus relented. "Well, good luck with... whatever." Pyrrhus left Frederick to his work and began wandering through camp looking for a sparring partner.

It was Donnel who first agreed to spar with him. The young man had recently taken up practice with the axe in addition to the blade, and was having a bit of trouble getting the hang of a slashing weapon over a stabbing one. Pyrrhus's knowledge of axe-wielding was largely theoretical, but it would suffice for Donnel's existing skill level. They found an unoccupied corner of camp and marked out a boundary before they began.

"Okay, Donnel," Pyrrhus said once they were both armed. "That axe isn't sharp, so it shouldn't be much danger to me. Let's work on your basic technique against a lance defense."

"You got it!" the young man called enthusiastically. He charged headlong at Pyrrhus, causing the tactician to flash back momentarily to his first training session in the lance with Cordelia, where he had employed a similar technique. Pyrrhus still had ample time to recognize Donnel's clumsy overhead swing, sidestep out of the way, and disarm him with a smack of the lance once the axe buried itself in the soft, grassy earth.

"You're telegraphing your attack much too far in advance, Donnel," lectured Pyrrhus. "If you hold your axe up like that, I can see you coming a mile away. Keep your weapon between your core and your enemy's weapon as long as possible to keep them guessing. It also lets you block more easily if your enemy gets the first strike in."

"Gotcha," Donnel replied, pulling his axe from the dirt and brushing it off.

"Hey!" Pyrrhus turned his head and raised his visor to see Sumia walk over. "You two practicing? Mind if I watch?" she asked.

Pyrrhus bowed. "Of course not, my lady."

"Oh, good," she replied cheerfully. "Chrom's working on something secret and asked if I'd vacate, so I've been looking for something to do. And don't call me 'my lady,' it makes me sound old."

"Oh, fine, Sumia, here I am trying to be a _respectful_ knight of Ylisse and you dishonor me," Pyrrhus replied sarcastically.

"Hey, I'm your queen, don't sass me."

"I wouldn't _dream_ of it." Pyrrhus lowered his visor and turned back to Donnel. "Come now, squire, let us endeavor to provide our benefactor with a spectacular demonstration of our abilities."

Donnel tilted his head to the side. "Huh?"

"Let's give her a show!" he called, twirling his lance expertly. He had definitely grown more comfortable with the weapon after his practice with Frederick. The elder knight had been an excellent teacher, and in a matter of weeks Pyrrhus had grown so adept that Frederick claimed that he was running out of things to teach him. Although Pyrrhus doubted those words, the fact of the matter was that their lessons had switched from more fundamental techniques and into the finer points of handling the weapon.

"Sounds fun, let's go!" Donnel hurried over, trying to heed Pyrrhus's advice about telegraphing attacks. He kept his axe close to his chest until he had gotten inside Pyrrhus's lance range.

Pyrrhus smacked the axe aside with his shield, then pulled back and pounded Donnel's offhand shoulder with a gauntleted fist. Donnel stumbled back, and Pyrrhus used his shield to knock the man to the ground on his back.

Not to be outdone, Donnel used his axe to catch Pyrrhus behind his foot and trip him up, bringing the tactician to the ground with him. Pyrrhus quickly rolled out of the way before Donnel could get his axe to bear on him, keeping firm hold of his lance.

The two both climbed to their feet at the same time, and this time Pyrrhus went on the offensive. He made several prodding attacks with his lance designed to throw Donnel off balance, then used the tip of his lance to disarm him again. The axe went spinning out of Donnel's hand, landing several feet away in the dirt. Pyrrhus positioned himself between the man and his weapon, but Donnel charged Pyrrhus, vaulted over his shoulders, and landed behind him.

Donnel knelt down to grab the axe, but had to immediately hold it up behind him to deflect a sideways slash from the lance as Pyrrhus spun around to confront his foe again.

The pair battled for several minutes, and Pyrrhus noticed a few more Shepherds join the audience. Henry and Cherche both appeared and looked on with interest, though Pyrrhus felt certain that Henry was hoping for someone to start bleeding. Gaius joined as well, calling out advice to Donnel. Axe clashed with lance as both warriors tried to tire each other out, to get the other to give up. Pyrrhus had strength, reach, and experience on his side, but Donnel was much more agile, even with a weapon so crude as an axe.

The two broke their clash, both pushed away by the other. They took it as a truce to catch their breath a bit. It was then that, with a feeling of dread, Pyrrhus sensed someone else approach.

"Hey, you two! Having fun?" As he feared, it was Cordelia.

Donnel and Pyrrhus both lowered their weapons, and Pyrrhus turned around and raised his visor once again.

"Hey, Cordelia. Just getting in some practice since Frederick's busy tonight."

She smiled amicably. "Well then, don't let me disturb you. By all means, continue. I'd like to see how you're improving."

Pyrrhus nodded, but he noticed something odd. "Hey, Cordelia, one of your bootstraps is loose."

She looked where he was pointing. "Oh, look at that! Thanks for the warning!"

The audience was raring for the fight to continue, but Cordelia bent over to fix her bootstrap, inadvertently drawing Pyrrhus's attention away from the fight and towards her wonderfully shapely legs. So distracted was he, in fact, that he missed a very crucial auditory cue.

_"Yeeeee-haw!"_

Although Pyrrhus did miss Donnel's battle cry, it was impossible for him to miss the sound of a blunted axe hitting him in the head, the way his helmet began ringing like a gong, and the feeling of his body colliding with the ground, all of which worked in concert to return him to his senses. Donnel stared, stunned, for several seconds before reaching down to help Pyrrhus up.

"Holy cow, sorry 'bout that," he apologized. "I thought you were ready!"

Pyrrhus stood up, gave himself a shake, and blinked several times. "That's fine, it was an honest mistake." He lowered his visor and grabbed his lance once more. "Okay, ready now."

Perhaps it was the inspiration of knowing that Cordelia was watching, or it might have been that Donnel was getting tired, or that Pyrrhus had had his fill of embarrassment. Whatever it was, Pyrrhus held nothing back as he continued sparring with Donnel, even pulling off a few moves he didn't realize he could do. Five minutes later, Pyrrhus had tripped Donnel, disarmed him, and forced him weaponless from the arena, resulting in victory by forfeit.

Pyrrhus pulled up his visor once more to muted applause from the audience. Most of them were clapping, but the audience was small so it wasn't very loud. He also noticed three oddities. First, Henry handed a few coins to Gaius, suggesting that the pair may have taken wagers on the outcome of the fight. Secondly, Cordelia was applauding with the most vigor. Third, Sumia had a curious look in her eyes, and she stared directly at him.

Pyrrhus reached over, grabbed Donnel's hand, and held it aloft. "Hey man, I'm just glad you weren't using a sword, or I'd have been in some serious trouble."

"Aww, shucks," Donnel said. "You whupped me but good."

The dinner bell rang, and the audience began to disperse. Most of them headed off in the direction of the mess, including Donnel. Only Sumia stayed, walked over to Pyrrhus, and indicated to wait for everyone else to leave. This wasn't something Sumia did often, and it made Pyrrhus nervous. Although he attempted to remain calm on the outside, inside his mind was panicking like Miriel when she misplaces her glasses.

When the ground was emptied, Sumia addressed Pyrrhus. "That was quite a performance by the two of you... marred only by a bizarre failure on your part at a key time. Would you care to explain that?"

Pyrrhus thought fast. "Oh, simple, I was looking at Henry and Gaius. I was appalled to notice them betting on the fight!"

Sumia smiled. "I certainly _hope_ that's not how you look at Henry _or_ Gaius. Or, well, Gaius at least. I'm not certain of Henry's proclivities, so you might have a chance there."

Pyrrhus could feel himself turning red. "Perhaps it would be better if you just asked me whatever's on your mind."

"Of course," reasoned Sumia. "Tell me, Pyrrhus, how long have you had feelings for Cordelia?"

Pyrrhus faked a harsh laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about. My job is far too important to allow for such distractions. Cordelia is a valued friend and an exceptional person, nothing more."

"Oh please," Sumia replied dismissively. "You might be able to fool most of these people with that sort of nonsense, but I was _in_ your shoes. Won't work on me."

Pyrrhus sighed. "Okay, fine. But it doesn't make any difference. She's in love with..." he trailed off. Perhaps it would be best not to alert Sumia to Cordelia's infatuation with her husband.

"Chrom, I know," Sumia finished. "Why does everyone think I don't know that? Who do you think she _talks_ to about this stuff anyway?"

Pyrrhus lowered his voice. "I always wondered, but I never thought it was appropriate to ask."

Sumia stopped him with a glare. "This isn't about me, this is about you and Cordelia."

Pyrrhus shook his head. "I don't know what else there is to discuss. She loves Chrom, Chrom's my best friend. I can do the math, Pyrrhus ends up with a broken heart."

Sumia gave him an enigmatic look. "He does?"

Pyrrhus wasn't looking. "Of course. I just... I just want to get her out of my head, but I can't. I just keep spending time with her, against my better judgment I might add, and everything keeps getting worse! I get frustrated enough when people don't follow my directions in battle, think how much worse it is when I can't even listen to _myself!_"

Sumia brought a finger to her chin and tapped it contemplatively. "I'm sure that must be difficult, but you're missing crucial information here."

"What am I missing?" Pyrrhus asked in exasperation.

"I think she has feelings for you too."

The tactician was speechless with disbelief. All he could stutter out was a single "W-whuh?"

"Well, first of all, I don't think she was ever _reall__y_ in love with Chrom. If I thought that, I wouldn't ever have married him. But she used to talk about him to me, and to everyone else who would listen, all the time. Poor Maribelle has poured out enough sympathy tea for Cordelia to drown an army! But recently, she's been talking about him a lot less and you a lot more. I think that she's attracted to you."

Pyrrhus furrowed his eyebrows. Something was incongruous here. "That doesn't make sense. Just the other day, she was acting all flustered around Chrom, and I even heard her give him one of those awful _sighs_ when we were leaving the medical tent. She's as in love with him as she ever was."

This new information seemed to catch Sumia by surprise. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me," Pyrrhus continued. "She was so nervous, it was like she'd switched minds with Olivia!" The combination of the physical tiredness from the earlier sparring in addition to the mental exhaustion was too much for the man, who knelt down and sat on the ground. "She doesn't love me, that's her prerogative. I'm just trying to deal with it, and I'm failing utterly."

Sumia joined him on the ground. "I don't understand," she said mostly to herself. "I was so sure. Hold on though, she thinks you're in love with someone _else_. What's that about?"

"She was poking around in my love life, and I had to throw her off the scent. Although she promised not to tell anyone, apparently you don't count."

"Huh," mused Sumia. "Okay, well, maybe she's not attracted to you. You should still tell her. If for no other reason, at least it might help you get some closure."

Pyrrhus scoffed. "Maybe a month ago I could have done that. Now if she turns me down it'll be all awkward. She'll constantly be second guessing my motives in battle, and we have to keep _seeing_ each other. I know her answer, so that's as good as telling her."

Sumia gave him a sympathetic look. "Maybe. Pyrrhus, Cordelia is probably the greatest woman I've ever met. She deserves a great man." She stood up and opened her mouth to say something else, but apparently decided against it. Instead, she just walked away.

Pyrrhus remained on the ground to contemplate this new information. Cordelia's actions seemed odd, but perhaps there was a simple explanation. Might it be that her talk about him was merely an expression of her empathy for his plight, the same plight she'd suffered for the last... however many years she's known Chrom? It sounded logical. Pyrrhus's predicament was nearly identical to hers.

Yes, that must be it. Pyrrhus still felt awful, of course, but at least he wasn't puzzled. He stood up and remembered that it was past time for dinner. The tactician hurried over to the mess before all the food was gone.

By the time he'd gotten there, half of the camp had come and gone already. The food was still hot, however, so he walked over to the hearth and spooned some noodles and sauce into a bowl. It wasn't Ylissean food; judging by the smell, it was Rosannean cuisine. Each region seemed to have its unique spice palette. In his time with the Shepherds, Pyrrhus had sampled tastes from Regna Ferox, too, and even a bit of Plegian food on the occasions that Tharja was cooking. Each region's food had a different flavor. In a way, it reminded Pyrrhus of the army itself: a flurry of different cultures that all seemed to work together towards a common goal without difficulty.

Regardless, the particular spice blend of Rosanne meant that either Virion or Cherche had cooked it. Both were surprisingly adept cooks, so it was difficult to tell the difference. But Cherche had been watching the sparring match, so it must have been Virion, deduced Pyrrhus. The tables held a scattering of the slower-eating Shepherds, but there was ample room to spare. Pyrrhus found a seat near the far end of the mess, as far away as he could get from other people. He really wasn't in the mood for any other conversations.

He sat down and took a few bites of the noodle dish. It was pretty good, and the warm food in his empty stomach did a good job of improving his mood. It didn't last for long, however, because he'd only about half finished when Cordelia walked over with her plate and sat down across from him.

"What do you think? Virion did a good job, I'd say!" Cordelia greeted him with a smile.

Pyrrhus matched it with a fake one of his own. "Yes, it's quite good."

"So I've been thinking," she continued. "After seeing you handling yourself in that match, I think you're ready to move on from Frederick. I'd like to teach you the finer points of working with the lance... pardon the pun."

Pyrrhus shook his head. "I'm not sure, Cordelia. I'm pretty sure Frederick has a lot to teach me yet."

"He probably does," Cordelia agreed. "But if you limit yourself to a single teacher, you'll impede your progress."

"I appreciate the offer, Cordelia, but you're the best lancer in the Shepherds. I'm sure your lessons would go right over my head." He took another bite of noodles.

Cordelia sighed. "I've taught my share of students, Pyrrhus. I know when someone's ready. If you don't think you are, I'm not going to force you. I just don't want you to stagnate."

"I'll keep that in mind," replied Pyrrhus.

She fiddled with her hair a bit. "You still did pretty well back there, aside from that one little slipup at the beginning."

"Oh, it was mostly luck," Pyrrhus demurred. "If you'd been there, Donnel wouldn't have lasted five seconds."

"Maybe. But just take the compliment," she insisted.

"Fine. My lancework was stellar, comparable only to the Masters of old," Pyrrhus replied sarcastically, earning a chuckle from Cordelia.

He was nearly finished with his meal, and Cordelia had finished hers. It was then that Sumia walked up behind Cordelia and raised a single eyebrow at Pyrrhus in suspicion. Pyrrhus waited until Cordelia looked away for a moment and returned an angry glare.

No good. Sumia tapped Cordelia on the shoulder and whispered something in her ear. Cordelia thought for a moment, then whispered a quick reply.

Sumia stood up. "Oh, okay. I'll ask someone else then. See you later." She walked off, but gave Pyrrhus a wide-eyed stare for a fraction of a second before she left.

"What was that?" Pyrrhus asked, setting his fork back on the plate.

"Oh... nothing important," Cordelia replied. "Now then, where were we?"

Pyrrhus thought for a moment. "I believe you were attempting to coerce me into letting you teach me the lance. But if you'd like to change the subject, that'd be just fine with me."

She gave him a brief angry look. "Fine, let's talk about something else. Maybe you can fill me in on some details on our next mission?"

Pyrrhus nodded. "Sure. Say'ri provided us with a rough map of the Mila Tree. It's in the strategy tent, if you'd like to come see it. I can run you through what I'm planning, though of course it's all subject to change once I see the enemy positions."

* * *

They adjourned to the strategy tent, where Pyrrhus found the map and spread it out on the table in the center. It was getting dark, so Cordelia lit the oil lamps.

Cordelia and Pyrrhus leaned over the table to see the map, and Pyrrhus pulled out a few blocks of wood he used to symbolize groups of soldiers.

"So this is the tree. Based on what Say'ri said, I would hazard that the enemies will deploy around _here,_" Pyrrhus indicated an area along the roots and placed a wood block there, "and over _here_." He placed another block on another root area a bit away. "Those two seem like the most defensible positions, since it'd be nearly impossible for a person to actually climb the side of the roots in the midst of battle."

Cordelia nodded. "I see, interesting. So where will we be?"

Pyrrhus took another block and set it down near the southeastern edge of the map. "The road we're on will put us _here,_ which means we'll be engaged primarily with the eastern force. My plan is to use our heavy cavalry to clear a path, then reinforce with heavy infantry for when the second force arrives."

Cordelia stared at the map for a few seconds. "So for the air units, you'll want them... here?" She pointed at a spot midway between the two enemy forces.

Pyrrhus opened his eyes in surprise. "No! That's the kill zone! You'll arrive from the south and flank the reinforcements from _here_ instead," he said, setting out another block.

"Makes sense," Cordelia replied. "And you'll be... here?"

They both reached for the same wood block, and their hands touched briefly before Pyrrhus yanked his away. "Correct. I will remain with the heavy infantry." Pyrrhus frowned grimly.

Cordelia's face dropped and her cheeks reddened. "Well, it's plain to see you're the right man for this job. I'll let you get back to work. See you tomorrow." She hurried out, leaving Pyrrhus with the desire to smack his head against the table a few times.

He settled for slamming his fist against the table instead. Three times, actually. In frustration, he swept all the wood blocks off the table onto the ground, and knocked the map aside. He gave it a few more seconds to be sure that Cordelia was really gone, and then stomped out of the strategy tent and right back to his own. He unbuckled his armor carelessly, left it on the floor, and fell onto his cot. He slammed his head into his pillow several times before he realized that Sumia probably wanted to talk to him about something. But he didn't feel like talking to anyone else tonight. Instead, he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep for a pair of hours before slumber finally claimed him.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, that's that. I actually lost half of this story thanks to a computer error, so I had to rewrite a bunch and it put me off schedule. Thanks for the reviews, as always, it brightens my day to read them.

This chapter sets up the overarching plot, which will involve the Shepherds taking the Mila Tree while the main army moves to retake Rosanne. I made up most of the background for Rosanne, since I didn't notice much said about it in game. If it's wrong, oh well. I made Rosanne a production center because there needed to be a reason for Walhart to take it. Good generals don't take land just because it's there. The place didn't seem likely to have much manufacturing or vast libraries of knowledge, and an army marches on its stomach.

Sumia's whispered conversation with Cordelia will be mentioned later. Suffice it to say, Sumia knows what's going on now from both sides. At this point, it should be pretty evident how Cordelia feels about Pyrrhus... to everyone but Pyrrhus himself. If it isn't, let me know, because I'm being too subtle. Next chapter, there will be _revelations_ of all sorts.


	8. Chapter 8

_Pyrrhus stood next to Chrom in Ylisstol, outside the chamber doors in one of the towers. His heart was pounding in his chest._

_"How do we tell them?" Pyrrhus asked Chrom._

_"I don't know," the prince replied. Chrom looked older, Pyrrhus noticed. There was a bit of gray in his blue hair, right along his temples, and his face carried a new scar and some new worry._

_Chrom knocked on the door twice. He heard a small voice answer. "Just a minute!"_

_The door opened, revealing two little girls. Neither could have been older than five. One of them shouted "Daddy!" in the same voice that had spoken behind the door. The other one, a bit more serious, looked up at the two adults, and asked the question that Pyrrhus was dreading._

_"Where's Mommy?"_

* * *

Pyrrhus awoke with a start. Another bizarre dream. This one was much clearer than the last one. Two girls, and he and Chrom were there. They were going to tell them something bad about their mother. It wasn't hard to guess what, if it was the leader of the Shepherds and his tactician. And one girl... called Chrom 'Daddy.'

"Oh, gods," Pyrrhus muttered. It must have been a dream about Sumia dying. Those two girls... did Lucina have a sister? He'd have to ask, but do it discreetly. If these dreams were prophetic, Pyrrhus doubted that she'd want to remember that moment.

Then he remembered that Sumia still probably wanted to talk to him. Of all the people he wanted to see after that dream, Sumia had to be the lowest on that list. He groaned and climbed out of bed.

A little bit later, Pyrrhus wandered down to the stream running by camp with a sharp dagger in hand. It had been a few days since he'd shaved. As it happened, he spotted Chrom there doing the same.

"Morning, Chrom!" Pyrrhus greeted his friend.

"Hey, Pyrrhus," Chrom replied, carefully scraping his neck with a similar blade and then rinsing it in the stream.

"Surprised to see you here, actually," Pyrrhus mused. "After your little anniversary celebration last night. I figured you'd have shaved last night and... shall we say... slept in this morning?"

Chrom stretched his neck to get a clean cut. "No, actually, turns out Sumia likes me more when I'm a bit rugged."

"What'd you two do last night?" he asked, even though he really wanted to get away from talking about Sumia. "Apparently whatever it was, you needed Frederick's help?"

Chrom nodded, rinsing his blade again. "I did. I wanted to recreate our wedding meal, but I'm an awful cook and it's a tough recipe. Frederick helped, and he also helped gather some flowers for our tent for... afterward."

Pyrrhus chuckled, splashing water on his face to soften his own stubble. "I think I got the picture, I don't need any more details."

"Fair enough," Chrom replied. "Anyway, the recipe took far longer than I expected, so we didn't even eat until long past dinner. What'd you do last night?"

"Just went to bed early," Pyrrhus said. "I was feeling pretty tired." That part was a lie. He wasn't feeling very tired, he just didn't want to be awake. He ran the blade down his cheek.

The two sat there and shaved for a few minutes, until Chrom was done. He washed his blade one final time, rubbing at a nick on the side of his neck to stem the bit of bleeding. "Well, I'll see you at breakfast. By the way, I've got to go get a message sent to the Khans. If you get a chance, could you go let Maribelle know there's a letter from her father that arrived via wyvern courier in the night?"

"I'll take care of it, don't worry," Pyrrhus insisted.

Chrom left, and Pyrrhus took a few minutes to finish his own shave. Then he walked over in the direction of the women's side of camp. Maribelle seldom took meals with the rest of the Shepherds, preferring privacy. It was a curious thing, but Pyrrhus didn't presume to understand nobility. He approached her tent and was about to rap on it when he heard voices inside.

"There you go, a nice cup of tea. Now then, what did you want to talk about?" Maribelle was talking to someone else in the tent with her.

Pyrrhus turned around and was going to leave, when he both recognized the voice of the person replying and heard his own name. "It's Pyrrhus again," Cordelia replied.

He wasn't the sort of person who liked to eavesdrop, but in this particular situation Pyrrhus couldn't help himself. He was pretty sure that just about anyone would have listened in under the circumstances. He took a few careful paces back, trying his best to remain silent, and snuck around to the back of the tent where he hoped he'd be less likely to be spotted. He made a show of examining his boot, but really he was concentrating on the hushed voices inside.

"Him again, huh?" Maribelle asked. "Good thing I've used the big teapot. Scone?"

"Thank you," Cordelia replied. "So I was talking to him, Pyrrhus, last night at dinner. And Sumia comes up and says Chrom needed to talk to me. And I asked if she could get someone else to do it."

"Talk to Pyrrhus?" Maribelle asked.

"No, go see Chrom."

"So... you passed up a chance to talk to _Chrom_ in order to keep talking to _Pyrrhus_."

"That's right."

"Did you go see him later?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I didn't think about it," Cordelia replied.

Pyrrhus heard the clink of china. "You've been crying... _literally_ crying... over this man for... how long, three years now? Crying to _me personally_, and every other Shepherd with a spare minute. And you didn't think about it."

"No."

Maribelle sighed. "Well Cordelia, I'll bite."

"I look at him, and I see that he's in love with another woman, and I wonder why it isn't me." Cordelia's voice was cracking a bit, but Pyrrhus almost didn't notice. He was absolutely in shock.

"What is it with you and men that don't notice you?"

Cordelia sighed. "It's not from lack of trying this time. I've been following all the steps in that book 'Make Him Fall for You in a Fortnight' and nothing's worked."

Maribelle scoffed. "That drivel? Of course it doesn't work. But is that what you want, to make him forget about this other strumpet and chase after you?"

"I certainly wouldn't mind."

"Then you've come to the right place!" Maribelle replied in an attempt at cheer. "I'm certain I can come up with a few ladylike things that might cast you in a new light in front of him. I just don't want you to waste another three years pining for him the way you did Chrom. My dear," she insisted authoritatively, "Men aren't worth crying over."

"I know what you mean, Maribelle, but it's not like I can help it. Gods, when I first realized how I felt around him I was so tongue-tied I wanted to smack myself! I can't imagine what Pyrrhus must have thought."

"Let me clue you in on something, darling," comforted Maribelle. "Pyrrhus is certainly a nice fellow, but he's not what I'd call _observant_ when it comes to people. You should have seen how long it took me to teach him how to behave like a member of society. I must've shown him that walk a dozen times and he still couldn't get it right."

Pyrrhus took offense to that. Maribelle neglected to realize how difficult it was to imitate that sort of walking, which he found to be most unnatural. He'd freely admit that he wasn't good at interpreting people though, or at the very least women, especially if he'd missed all _this_.

"I'm afraid I don't follow," Cordelia replied.

"Then allow me to clarify. If you want him to notice you, you can't be subtle about it. You'll need a new approach, a more direct one, if you want him thinking of you as a woman."

Pyrrhus winced. Maribelle's advice couldn't have been more ill-timed. Still, he knew Cordelia's true feelings now. His heart had been doing a little waltz, but his head told him to be cautious. In fact, he hadn't even given consideration to starting a relationship with Cordelia, or _any_ relationship for that matter. He decided to give it some thought over the course of the day and work out what to do. After all, it wouldn't hurt to have a plan, and to anticipate any possible repercussions.

But he still had to talk to Maribelle about her mail. He carefully snuck back around and approached the front of Maribelle's tent, this time as noisily as he could without raising suspicion. As suspected, Maribelle hissed out a _shush_ sound as he reached her tent and knocked.

"Maribelle, you in there?" he asked.

"Ahem, yes, you may enter," she replied. Pyrrhus pushed aside the tent flap and entered. It was larger and roomier than his own tent, and both Cordelia and Maribelle were seated at a small portable table, drinking tea. Pyrrhus ignored Cordelia's beet-red face. "What can I do for you, sir?" Maribelle asked.

"Chrom wished me to tell you that you've received post from your father in Ylisse." Cordelia was clearly avoiding his gaze, focusing intently on the half-full cup of tea in her right hand.

Maribelle, to her credit, did what she could to draw Pyrrhus's attention away from the furiously blushing pegasus knight. When she spoke, she moved her hands more emphatically than usual. "Thank you, I'll see to it after tea. Was there anything else?"

"That's all," Pyrrhus replied. He took several seconds to make sure his exit would be flawless, because he knew that Maribelle would be angry if he made a mistake. "I'll take my leave. Lady Maribelle. Lady Cordelia." He gave a polite bow that was as close as he could get to the one Maribelle had showed him.

"Good morning," Maribelle replied by way of a farewell.

"Pyrrhus," Cordelia muttered.

The tactician turned and left swiftly. But it wasn't swiftly enough to miss what Maribelle said next.

"See what I mean about him being oblivious? He couldn't even tell you were blushing!"

Pyrrhus stifled a frustrated growl.

* * *

Over the course of the day's march, Pyrrhus developed what he figured to be a solid plan. This was despite Cordelia spending the majority of the march with him. He would have enjoyed the conversation a lot more, but Cordelia seemed to be employing some new tactics. Even if he hadn't overheard the conversation with Maribelle, Pyrrhus was confident he'd have been able to place it as her doing. Cordelia kept delivering this really awkward tittering laugh that unnerved Pyrrhus to no end. She called him 'incorrigible' and 'delightful' and waved at him in this distinctly not-Cordelia way. It was outright disturbing. Pyrrhus desperately wanted to tell her to stop, but he didn't want to let on what he knew. So instead he suffered in silence through the Maribelle-inspired version of Cordelia. He even started calling them 'Maribellisms' in his head. He even managed to avoid Sumia, no small feat since she could fly overhead to spot him and was trying to talk to him alone for the entire march. In that respect, Cordelia was most helpful, because he knew what Sumia was going to tell him and also knew that Sumia wouldn't dare tell him in front of her.

Fortunately, it was another easy march. They would arrive at the Mila Tree the following afternoon and commence the battle, which by Pyrrhus's estimate would give the Mila Tree soldiers enough time to call for backup and draw forces from Rosanne before the army proper began its own attack. Erecting the strategy tent each night always seemed like an unnecessary effort to Pyrrhus: it was seldom occupied, and even then only by the small council. Tonight, however, he was thankful for it. Even if it wouldn't have been awkward (and inappropriate!) to invite Cordelia into his tent for a private talk, it was a little _too_ confined and intimate. The command center for the Shepherds would be a far more suitable location.

His own small tent unpacked, and dinner an hour away, he decided that it was time. He found Cordelia outside her tent, chatting with Sumia, and asked if she would speak with him privately. He noticed the suggestive look that Sumia wore as Cordelia waved goodbye, and the pair walked to the strategy tent. Pyrrhus held the flap open for Cordelia to enter. Yesterday, she'd have sighed at him and muttered a "thank you." Today, she did more of that awful tittering and curtseyed.

"What's going on, Pyrrhus?" she asked once they were both inside and Pyrrhus had lit the oil lamps.

"Well," Pyrrhus began. "There's something very important I have to discuss with you."

Cordelia leaned back against the map table. "Okay, go ahead."

"It has come to my attention that... that you have feelings for me," Pyrrhus said.

Cordelia gasped. "Who told you?"

Pyrrhus sighed and furrowed his eyebrows. He wanted to lie to her, that she might not think badly of him. He could claim that he had figured it out from her attitude today. But he had told himself firmly that he wasn't going to lie tonight. If anything was going to come of them, he wanted it to be started on a foundation of honesty. "I inadvertently overheard some of your chat with Maribelle this morning. I should have announced my presence, but when I heard you two talking about me I was compelled to eavesdrop. For that, I apologize: it was most ungentlemanly."

"I see..." she said distractedly. "So... you know. What happens now?"

So far, so good. Pyrrhus had been mildly concerned that she'd run away in embarrassment. He pressed onward as his pulse increased. "Here's what I don't understand. You're in love with Chrom."

"I thought I was," Cordelia corrected. "Now, I'm not entirely sure how I felt. But with you, I know."

"Then what I need to ask you, is... why?"

Cordelia looked at him in confusion. "What kind of question is that?"

"Bear with me, please," insisted Pyrrhus. "Cordelia, I'm a good man. I am. I'm a skilled warrior, my knowledge and execution of tactics is not to be underestimated, and from what I can tell I'm not awful on the eyes." He gave a hint of a smile, and Cordelia chuckled. "I'm a good man. But I'm not Chrom. I never will be. Chrom's a great man... and you're a great woman. You deserve someone like him. His faith in humanity is awe-inspiring. That can't be me. If I'd been in Chrom's shoes the day he found me in a field, I wouldn't have trusted that stranger, and I sure as hell wouldn't have given him control over my army."

Cordelia looked down at the ground. "Did I ever tell you about the first time I met Chrom?"

Pyrrhus shook his head. "No, I don't think you did."

"It was fall, I'd been in the Ylissean pegasus knights for about six months. You might recall that they were hazing me, calling me Little Lady Genius, mocking my perfectionism. Sumia hadn't joined the Shepherds yet, because the Shepherds didn't exist, and she couldn't come to visit. In those six months, the only friendly ear I had was Diomedes."

"I remember," Pyrrhus replied.

"Well, that fall, all the pegasus knights who had been there less than two years were presented to the Exalt and Chrom. At the time, Chrom was in the early stages of planning the group that would become the Shepherds. He was thinking of drawing a pegasus knight from our ranks to attach to his new team. There were five of us all together, and I was the youngest. He introduced himself, and he didn't act remotely like the heir to the Ylissean throne. He treated me like a normal person. Understand, even back home, people have treated me differently for as long as I can remember. Many of them disliked me for much the same reason the other pegasus knights teased me. Others, like poor Sumia, relied on me and treated me like I was infallible, and it put so much _pressure_ on me because I didn't want to let them down! For the first time in my life, someone treated me not as an inferior or a superior, but as an equal, as a normal person. He _talked_ to me like a friend, even though he'd just met me, and asked me how I was liking the pegasus knights and I could tell that he actually cared what I thought."

"I can scarcely imagine what that must have been like, Cordelia. As far back as I can remember, I've had that luxury of being treated like an equal."

"It was amazing," Cordelia replied. "In the end, Chrom decided against adding a pegasus to his group. I never learned why. But from that day forward, I idolized that man."

Pyrrhus paced the room a bit. "I think we all have a story like that about Chrom. Like I said, he's a great man."

"He is," Cordelia agreed. "And then I met you."

"And how did this woefully-substandard specimen attract you?"

"Because, regardless of what you claim, you and Chrom have a lot more in common than you think. You're a bit more sarcastic and snarky than he is, but you're still charming and kind. Just like him, you treat me like an equal. He might have more trust in humanity than you do. But I've never known anyone so caring for his fellow man than Chrom... except for you. And you make me smile," she added, choking up a bit. "That accounts for a lot."

Pyrrhus looked into her eyes and saw tears, and felt his own eyes welling, his heart pounding. He wanted almost more than anything to run up to her and wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything was going to be fine. But there was still something holding him back. He turned away from her, hoping that not looking at her would help him get through what he needed to say.

"How do..." he sighed and started again. "If we were to start dating, I'd have to _know_... because Chrom's my best friend, hell he's my family." He held his left hand up over his mouth to conceal it when he rubbed aside a stray tear. "If you woke up in a week, or a month, or a year, or ten years, and you realized that you'd rather be with Chrom, that I was a mistake and you'd settled for the wrong man..." he turned around to face her. She was holding both her hands over her mouth, weeping openly now. "I couldn't take that. It would kill me."

She put her hands down and her eyes widened in realization. "Then you..."

Pyrrhus nodded. "I do."

Cordelia started moving towards him, but Pyrrhus held up his hand. "I need to know, because I won't get started down that path unless-" Pyrrhus was cut off when Cordelia knocked his hand aside, took his face in her hands, and brought her lips to his.

Pyrrhus would never forget that first kiss. The smell of cherry blossoms from her hair, the dim light of the oil lamps and the early evening spring sun through the tent opening, the sound of the gentle breeze in that utterly perfect moment, and most of all the combination of ferocity and softness in her lips.

It only lasted a few seconds, but for Pyrrhus it felt like hours. Cordelia pulled away, barely an inch, and whispered like she was telling him a secret. "Chrom and you both have my respect and my loyalty, but you _alone_ have won my heart."

And that was all he needed. The last barrier holding him back fell, and he took Cordelia in his arms and kissed her right back. Months of withheld emotions came crashing out in their passionate embrace. Pyrrhus held her body tight against him, feeling her heart pounding in time with his own, wishing that their kiss could go on forever.

"Good heavens!"

Pyrrhus and Cordelia turned their heads together to see a wide-eyed and thoroughly embarrassed Frederick standing at the entrance to the tent. They shared a mortified look and pushed each other away at the same time.

"Frederick!" Pyrrhus said, trying to pretend that nothing had happened. "What can I do for you?"

Frederick appeared unable to make eye contact with either of them. He preferred to look down at the ground as he spoke. "I beg your pardon, I heard noises in here and thought perhaps I was needed. I'll just... uhh... get out of your way... err... let you get back to... I'll just be going."

Pyrrhus had never seen Frederick so flustered. "Thank you very much," he replied politely.

"Dinner's in thirty minutes," Frederick said.

"I see. Well, Cordelia and I may be a bit late. We have some very important business to take care of... in here... alone." Cordelia smacked him on the shoulder, but he pretended not to notice. "If it's no trouble, please see that we're not disturbed."

"Of course," Frederick answered. "I'll see you both later then." He bowed out of the tent, and Pyrrhus could hear the dampened clanking of the knight's armor as he walked away.

Pyrrhus turned back to Cordelia. "Well, now that the mood's totally ruined, where were we?"

Cordelia gave him a confident and slightly naughty smile that Pyrrhus found utterly beguiling. "I think we can recapture it."

"I should warn you," Pyrrhus said, taking hold of her waist. "Now that I've tasted the delicacy of your mouth, I'm going to be sampling it a lot more."

Cordelia looked deep into his eyes, ruffling the brown hair on the back of his neck with her right hand. Then she shook her head. "Nope, nice try."

"Damn." He looked away, still smiling, and thought for a second. "Okay, how about this: all those tips that Maribelle must have given you after I left? _Please_ forget them. I specifically told you I wasn't in love with her to begin with."

Cordelia smiled. "Good, because that laugh was getting on my nerves."

"Besides," Pyrrhus continued, "I much prefer the dulcet tones of your regular laugh."

"Well excuse me, I was just _desperate_ because some brave tactician was too craven to tell me how he _really_ felt." Before he could retort, she kissed him again. And Pyrrhus decided that another perfect moment was more than worth letting her get the last word.

The two of them stood there, joined at last, sharing one perfect moment after another.

* * *

**A/N:** Those of you who read my profile might be a bit confused right now, since I did mention that I'm not so fond of requited love. Because I'm not typically fond of it, I don't write very much of it. I use this place as a means of refining my craft, and to that end I wanted to stretch my boundaries a bit and do some requited love for a change. This doesn't necessarily mean that Pyrrhus and Cordelia are going to live happily ever after from here on out. The declaration of mutual attraction is only the first step in a relationship, and the rest of the story will be focusing on the rest of the relationship, as well as the rest of the game's plot of course. Since it sounds like people might be thinking otherwise, I'll just go ahead and confirm it here: the official pairing for this story is Avatar/Cordelia and it won't be changing.

I posted this chapter early for a few reasons. It's a little bit shorter than the last few, and I did feel bad about ending the last chapter at such a cliffhanger. It's also because I'm utterly blown away by the number of reviews I've gotten for this story, and lastly because I'm a little bit nervous about it. Like I said, I seldom write this sort of romance. It's sort of like telling a joke: if I screw up the big confession scene, it's like messing up the punchline, and the whole thing could fall flat. So yeah, I'm hoping this isn't too awful or corny.

In this chapter, we finally see the biggest reason why Pyrrhus has been so afraid to act in this relationship. He's been terrified that Cordelia might choose to settle for him in place of her actual love, and he doesn't want that strain on his greatest friendship. Fortunately, Cordelia knows what to say to assuage those fears. It won't fix the problem overnight, but Pyrrhus now has reason to believe that she's not just choosing him because Chrom is taken.

If anyone can guess what reference I'm making in the Maribelle/Cordelia conversation that Pyrrhus overhears, I'll be super pleased. Next chapter, the group will attack the Mila Tree, Tiki will be met, and a few questions will be answered.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, Pyrrhus mused at how curious it was that such a simple change would make such a big difference to his attitude. In terms of his routine, very little had changed between that day and the day before. He woke up, ate breakfast, packed up camp, marched, chatted with Chrom or Cordelia, just like before. Yet everything felt so remarkably different in the light of his new relationship. Even the promise of battle later that day could do little to sour the glorious mood he felt since he and Cordelia had kissed.

He must have been completely transparent, as nearly everyone he spoke with commented how upbeat and cheerful he was that morning. He and Cordelia hadn't talked about if and when they were going to disclose their new relationship, so Pyrrhus decided to say nothing. Frederick wasn't one to spread rumors, so his interference last night wouldn't matter. As for Sumia, who by now must have known the whole thing, well... she was Cordelia's best friend. Pyrrhus was confident that his girlfriend would handle that particular thorn.

The march, like the last two days, was an easy one. In dawn's light they could spot the Mila Tree, even though it was still miles away. Pyrrhus spent the morning with Cordelia, talking about mundane, non-relationshippy things. He had to admit, it was kind of fun having a secret like this. When Chrom joined their conversation, he carried on with both of them, but he and Cordelia gave each other discreet looks when Chrom wasn't paying attention. After the first mile or so, the road entered into a deep forest, and they once again lost sight of the Tree. In the dark shade of the boughs, Pyrrhus even stole a chaste kiss when nobody was looking, earning himself another good-natured shoulder slap and a reproachful look.

They broke from the tree cover to the sight of the massive Mila Tree, where Say'ri claimed that the Oracle of Naga was held hostage. Cordelia and Sumia took to the air to scout while Pyrrhus, Chrom, Say'ri, and Lucina pulled out the map of the area. The pair of pegasus knights returned with information on the enemy troop positions.

"It was like you thought, Pyrrhus," Cordelia confirmed. She pointed with her lance at two places on the map. "The bulk of their soldiers are concentrated here and here."

Say'ri indicated a different spot. "The staircase up the trunk begins at this point, with the shrine itself in the branches. There is no other way up."

"Very well," Chrom said. "In that case, we just stick to the plan, right?"

Pyrrhus shook his head. "Not yet. We need to _parley_."

* * *

Several hours later, Pyrrhus rode with Cordelia with a white flag in hand to speak to the commander of the enemy forces. They were met at the base of the roots by a man in armor even heavier than his own, with a beard that Pyrrhus greatly admired, and two guards.

"So, yeh've come to surrender, eh wot?" The man asked.

Instead, Pyrrhus unfurled a scroll of parchment and began reading. "By order of Lord Chrom, rightful ruler of Ylisse and Commander in Chief of the Ylissean League, I hereby claim this temple as a garrison for his soldiers and demand that you vacate. You will have twenty-four hours for your troops to surrender your weapons and leave with your lives. If you ignore this decree you will be slain to the last man in battle."

"Gwaugh!" The bearded man nearly choked in surprise. "We've not even made introductions! What kind of parley is this?"

Pyrrhus closed the scroll. "I am Sir Pyrrhus the Wise, chief strategist to the Lord Chrom. This is Lady Cordelia, knight-champion of the Ylissean aerial division."

The bearded man cleared his throat. "Very good, then. I am Cervantes, of the Invincible Mustache, Executive Officer to the Mighty Walhart the Conqueror. Now then... as to your little proclamation there..."

"If you need time to consider the offer, we can return later, but the twenty-four hours starts now," Cordelia insisted.

Cervantes scoffed. "I don't need twenty-four hours, hell I don't need twenty-four seconds! I refuse to comply, and I will meet you on the field of battle!"

"Saved us a return trip then, I suppose," Cordelia said dryly.

"Shall we?" Pyrrhus asked, mounting the pegasus behind her. He turned back to Cervantes. "The entirety of our army is behind us. You cannot hope to win. I hope that following this Conqueror is worth the cost of your life."

Cervantes snarled. "I'm a soldier, m'boy! It's not mah place to question the orders of better men." The other two soldiers seemed in agreement with this curious response.

Pyrrhus nodded to Cordelia, and she took Diomedes' reins and launched them both into the air. He squeezed his fist tightly in anger, that there could be men so blind as to not question a superior's orders. It was disheartening, and it would mean more pointless bloodshed than was strictly necessary.

Cordelia called back to him during the flight. "You think they got the hint?" she asked, turning her head and raising her visor so that Pyrrhus could hear her.

"I certainly hope so," Pyrrhus replied. "If not, we can always let a few of them escape... unless they're too stupid to even do that, then I don't know what we'll do."

They landed back near the tree cover, where all the Shepherds had convened. Chrom and Frederick were discussing the battle ahead, while Say'ri and Lucina approached the pegasus.

"Just as we expected," confirmed Pyrrhus, dismounting Diomedes. "They refused our demand for their surrender, and they think we're going to use this place to hold our army."

"We just have to hope they're smart enough to send a messenger back to Walhart with that information, then," Cordelia added.

"Ah! You must not have noticed! A lone pegasus and rider departed the tree several minutes prior, heading west," Say'ri replied. She narrowed her eyes in anger. "That is the direction of Valm's throne. I would stake my life that's where it was headed."

Chrom finished his conversation with Frederick and walked over. "Well, that's that then. The Shepherds are ready to go."

The group began its march from the woods to the roots of the great Mila Tree. Pyrrhus caught Say'ri by the arm and pulled her aside as the Shepherds moved past.

"Say'ri... I haven't had much of a chance to speak to you alone. I wanted to apologize for abandoning you in the battle of the harbor. As awful as I felt, I'm sure it could hardly compare to your own feelings, having known those people personally. I should have remained at your side rather than sending you off with Cordelia."

Say'ri chuckled darkly. "Fie, nobody told you! As you cut your way through the Valmese flank, I walked behind and watched your back. There was no shortage of Valmese dogs wanting a bite of your flesh, and I brought low more than my share on that day." She said it with no shortage of pride. "You got away from me at the end though, and Cordelia swept you up before I could get to you." She left him then, jogging ahead to catch up with the rest of the group.

Pyrrhus was caught by surprise. "Oh. Well... that's good then." He hurried to catch up as well.

* * *

The subsequent battle was short and brutal. Sully and Frederick's charge, with Cherche's terrifying wyvern between them, plowed through their initial ranks, and Pyrrhus found himself fighting back-to-back-to-back with Chrom and Lucina in the swarm of soldiers that moved to close in behind the cavalry. His mundane lance was no comparison to the legendary blades wielded by father and daughter, and Pyrrhus's relative lack of skill meant that they both slew far more enemies than he. Then again, there were a few things that he could do that they couldn't. At one point, Pyrrhus bull rushed a particularly thin root, running one man through and knocking two more off either side with the combined bulk of his steel armor, shield, and lance. Both Chrom and Lucina had looked quite impressed by that. Then again, the only other person in that sort of armor was Kellam, and nobody ever saw him kill anything. That is, people died at his hand, but nobody ever noticed until afterward.

He also noticed Gaius and Tharja, fighting together as per Pyrrhus's orders (at Gaius's request). Gaius emptied his quiver into distant enemies and slid his dagger between any that happened too close, while Tharja took out larger targets with furious power. She seemed even sulkier and more driven than usual, and Pyrrhus wondered why. Perhaps it was just Gaius's influence: he seemed to be talking to her in the midst of combat, and Pyrrhus knew firsthand how obnoxious the man could be when he wanted. He decided that, even if Gaius had requested her as a partner, and even though they worked reasonably well together, Pyrrhus just didn't have the heart to inflict Gaius on Tharja any more. He chalked it up to his still-sunny disposition.

When the enemy reinforcements that Pyrrhus had been expecting arrived, he rushed to meet them while the lordly duo moved to engage Cervantes. He once again found use for his bulkiness in taking up too much space on the roots to be bypassed. Arrows of steel plinked off his armor like pebbles, and even the heavy axes could find no give in his reinforced plate. Behind him, an overly-exuberant Henry cackled madly as he hurled balls of flame at anyone who Pyrrhus couldn't spear. Just as Pyrrhus was getting tired of the constant arrow harassment, a screeching battle cry heralded the entrance of the aerial cavalry. Cordelia and Sumia blew across the battlefield, leaving spears impaled in enemy bodies in a dazzling display that quickly set the enemy to rout.

When they were gone, Pyrrhus climbed the roots once more to meet back with Chrom. He found the lord having impaled ones of the roots with his Falchion while Chrom stretched after the fight. Say'ri was chiding him for damaging the sacred tree.

"-thousands of years old, you can't just jab your sword in it!" she shouted angrily.

Chrom drew the sword back out and put it back in its sheath. Lucina stood behind him, hiding a smile. A few other Shepherds were there as well, but most were seeing to finishing off the enemies that had fallen from the roots, making sure they were dead.

Pyrrhus's approach drew attention away from the angry swordswoman. "What's the word?" the tactician asked.

Lucina sighed as Chrom answered. "We managed to wound Cervantes, but he escaped. Took off along the western side of the roots with a few of his remaining soldiers."

"Bah!" Pyrrhus shouted in frustration. Not only was the man a hypocrite, but they'd missed the chance to kill one of Walhart's key subjects. He sighed. "Well, it's not that big of a deal. He'll probably reinforce whatever his messenger said. We'll get him another day."

Chrom walked over and clapped him on the back. "No kidding we will! Not a single casualty of ours, and nearly a hundred of their men slain! We'll show these Valmese how Shepherds fight!"

Pyrrhus wanted to mention that a hundred was a drop in the ocean compared to a million men, and that these small numbers wouldn't scale that well when the size of the opposing forces were raised. There was no doubt in his mind that there would be casualties amongst the Ylissean League in retaking Rosanne, for instance. And as for combating Walhart on his own terms... it would be inevitable, and that battle wouldn't turn out well either. But he didn't want to lower morale by bringing up such unpleasant thoughts.

Say'ri scoffed. "Marry! What skill! I almost pity our enemies!"

"We have little time to waste," Lucina interrupted. "Say'ri, can you show us the way up to the branches?"

Say'ri nodded. "Of course! Follow me!"

The walk up the stairs was nearly exhausting. Cordelia flew down and offered Pyrrhus a lift to the top, but he declined, not wanting to abandon the others. Instead, they all braved the walk together, except Cordelia, who said she'd meet them at the top and disappeared. The stairs were formed directly into the wood, but not by carving or any damaging action. In fact, the stairs were covered in the same thick bark as the rest of the tree. With nothing else really to think about, and too short of breath to talk much, he found himself considering how they had been crafted. It could have been magic, or perhaps the tree was shaped that way over the centuries by careful artisans. The only people who could live long enough to do something like that would be the manaketes, of course, and Pyrrhus couldn't possibly imagine someone like Nowi, the only manakete he knew, having the patience to do something like that. Lissa marched alongside him, completely winded. Chrom was a few steps up, enduring the climb in stoic silence. Only Say'ri seemed to be taking the staircase in stride, humming a few bits of some melody that Pyrrhus didn't know.

Just as Pyrrhus felt like his legs were about to give up, they reached the top. He didn't know what he was expecting when he heard the words 'temple in the tree branches,' but whatever it was, this wasn't it. A magnificent stone structure stood proudly on the center of a massive platform carved with ancient and intricate runes, adorned with a handful of small pillars. Judging by the pattern, Pyrrhus guessed that it might be a celestial calendar of some sort. The stone sundial-temple was surrounded by a beautiful green meadow that had somehow grown on top of the branches. The air was thick with magic, but it was not at all suffocating. Instead, the suffusion of magic made everything feel a little bit lighter. It was as though his armor didn't weigh quite so much as it had a few minutes ago.

The feeling was not lost on the others. Lissa, the most ready complainer when it came to difficult walks, had ceased her grumbling and even wore a hint of a smile. Chrom and Lucina both stood up a bit straighter in the shadow of the aerie. Even Frederick bore an uncharacteristically broad smile.

Say'ri called out to the Voice, and a beautiful young woman appeared at the temple entrance. After some brief confusion involving Lucina and Marth, Tiki explained to them the importance of the Fire Emblem, as well as its missing components: four gemstones. Say'ri mentioned that Walhart held one, and one was said to have been in Regna Ferox. Lady Tiki herself had another, which she gifted to Chrom, but that left one unaccounted for.

With that gift, she also gave a warning: Grima's power was waxing, and soon he would be reawakened. The Fire Emblem could be used to perform a ritual that might help seal him back away. And that was when things got a little strange.

For the first time, Tiki turned and spoke to Pyrrhus. "Ah! You possess the power as well!"

Pyrrhus raised his eyebrow. "Excuse me? What power?"

"Power like mine," Tiki insisted.

"What are you talking about?"

Tiki frowned. "Excuse me. I am still tired, not yet fully awake. I'm not thinking clearly."

Say'ri took a step forward and held out her hand. "Milady, are you all right?"

Tiki yawned again. "I'm fine, just very tired. I'm not yet strong enough to join you in battle, but... I can still be of assistance. I can use my prayer to call the people together, to your side."

Chrom bowed. "If you could do that for us, you would have my thanks, Lady Tiki."

She stifled another yawn. "It's nothing. I must do what I can to stop Grima's return. I will prepare to depart. While I am gathering my things, feel free to explore the temple."

Pyrrhus wasn't typically a fan of studying architecture, but he figured that this was probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and didn't want to waste it. The Shepherds all entered the temple and spread out into ones and twos. Pyrrhus joined with Cordelia and the two explored together.

The structure was marvelous. It was obvious that the stonework had been done by a master stonemason, wonderfully carved and chiseled marble. Walls were adorned with ancient artwork, paintings of men and dragons, of wars and treaties, great people, great things, and great places. Most of them he didn't recognize, but Cordelia pointed out a few to him that she knew, and told him the stories that accompanied them. As they explored, Pyrrhus felt more like this was a museum than a temple. There was no pulpit, no seats for a congregation. There were merely rooms and rooms of art and antiquities.

Eventually, Pyrrhus spotted a door leading to a library. His eyes widened at the thought of ancient texts, and Cordelia sighed. "Oh, fine," she said. "You go on, I'll meet up with you outside later." She relinquished his hand and he scurried inside to the packed bookshelves as she walked away.

Pyrrhus spent quite a while perusing ancient tomes, finding several ancient books about war that drew his attention. But eventually, he found himself drawn to a curious pedestal sitting in the center of the bookshelves. On it rested a metal holder bearing a single gem. Pyrrhus leaned in close to examine it.

It was a brilliant blue, almost like a sapphire, but Pyrrhus knew almost nothing of gems and had no way of knowing what kind of stone it was. It was absolutely beautiful but bore no marks of being cut: it was perfectly round, oval-shaped, but minute. He estimated it at maybe half an inch on the long side. He leaned in until his eyes were just a few inches to try and get a clear look, wishing for a lens or loupe of some kind to aid him.

"It is called a Naga's Tear," a voice said, startling him. He spun his head around to see Tiki standing in the doorway, watching him.

"They are exceedingly rare," Tiki continued, approaching the pedestal. "They are blue diamonds. In all the years I've lived, I've only ever seen the one. It's said that they're gifts from Naga herself, and that they possess powerful magic."

"I've never seen its equal," Pyrrhus admitted. Now that he knew how priceless it was, he felt very self-conscious of his crude examination. Not wanting to risk damaging it, he carefully stood back. "It's fortunate that the Valmese didn't take it when they were here."

Tiki shook her head. "They never entered the temple. I think they were afraid to anger Naga; even Walhart is a follower of the divine dragon."

"Is that so?" Pyrrhus asked. "It's funny, but I don't recall reading anything about his religion in his manifesto."

Tiki smiled. "I doubt he wants it to be known that he believes in anyone that's more powerful than he is." She watched the gem as if she thought it might start moving.

Pyrrhus bowed politely. "Thank you, Lady Tiki, for the explanation. I should be going."

She looked at him curiously. "Aren't you going to take it?"

"Take what?" Pyrrhus asked.

"Naga's Tear," she replied. "Take it."

Pyrrhus took a step away from her in shock, looked at her aghast. "I-I couldn't possibly..."

Very carefully, she plucked the diamond from its metal holder. "Here. It was given to me, long ago, by an old friend. You remind me of him."

Pyrrhus took another step back as she offered him the gem. "No, I haven't done anything to earn it. In fact, there's nothing I _could_ do to earn it."

Tiki smiled and took his right hand with her left, holding the gem in her right. "I said as much when the gem was given to me. You journey to save the world from the darkness of Grima. I can think of no nobler task worthy of its price."

"B-but-" Pyrrhus stuttered.

Tiki opened his hand and placed the gem in it. "Unlike the other relics here, this one belonged to me. It is mine to give to whomever I wish. And I wish for you to have it."

Pyrrhus sighed as she closed his hand around it, his eyebrows creasing into a worried frown. He uttered the only words he could think to say. "I've done nothing."

"But you will," Tiki replied. She pressed his right hand against his chest. The crest of Grima was evident on it, and their eyes together looked upon the symbol. "I have faith in that."

He walked from the room, overwhelmed with guilt, and spotted Lucina examining a portrait of Marth. He carefully put the Naga's Tear into his pouch, and remembered that he had been meaning to ask her something. He walked over.

"Lucina," he began.

She turned around. "Ah, hello Pyrrhus."

"I've been thinking... I know you're not supposed to tell us the future, but... are you an only child? Or did Chrom and Sumia have any other children before..." he trailed off.

Lucina nodded in silent understanding of the words he'd left out. "I'm not sure why you'd care, but yes. I have a younger sister, Cynthia. She was one of the others who came with me from the future, so I have no concern telling you. She is... rather more excitable than I am."

"I see," Pyrrhus said, and his mood dropped even further. His dream from the other night... an excitable little girl and a serious one. It must have been them. Which meant that he was right, and he'd had a dream about Sumia dying.

"Why do you ask?" Lucina probed.

Pyrrhus decided that she didn't need to know what he did. "Oh, it's just that your parents are sort of, err... amorous? Passionate? It seemed odd to me that they'd only have a single child."

Lucina had winced at the word 'amorous' and made a face of mild disgust. "I... see. Thank you for that mental image, now if there's nothing else?"

"No, nothing. See you around." He quickly hurried away, glad that he'd had a good excuse, even if it might have disturbed Lucina a bit.

* * *

By the time everyone was ready to go, it was getting too late to travel. Chrom officially called it a day, and the Shepherds set their tents around the temple which, while large enough to house them all, only had quarters for a few. There was no official cook for the night, but there was ample food and several different Shepherds threw things together. Pyrrhus had formed an idea that he hoped would be romantic, and set about preparing things.

Right around dinnertime, Pyrrhus wandered back into camp, searching for Cordelia. He found her in the mess, waiting in line to heat up some vegetables she'd found in the chuck wagon.

He approached her and tried to keep things nonchalant. "Hey Cordelia,"

She turned to him and smiled. "Oh hey, I was just going to prepare myself some dinner." She saw his hands were empty, and looked behind her, where several other Shepherds were waiting for a chance to use the fire. "Would you like me to make you something? I'm sure I've got enough here for two."

Pyrrhus shook his head. "No, I'm okay. Are you well? You seem a little pale."

She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to figure out his game. "I feel just fine," she replied honestly.

Pyrrhus clucked his tongue several times, folding his arms and leaning heavily on his right leg. He was going for authoritative, but Cordelia's widening smile told him he'd overplayed his hand. He continued anyway. "No, you look pale. You should go for a bit of a walk, maybe that'll help."

She smirked as she realized what he was doing. She set her vegetables down on a nearby table. "Now that you mention it, I do feel a bit tired. You think the walk will help?"

Pyrrhus nodded. "Yeah, but you know, I'd better stay with you. Wouldn't want you to be out there alone and collapse or something." He took her arm and led her away.

"Yes, I'm just _ever_ so helpless sometimes," she uttered, rolling her eyes as she allowed him to pull her out of line. They got a few curious stares from the other Shepherds in line, but nobody stopped them. He led her away from the camp, around to the back of the temple and out onto the grassy field surrounding.

"You almost blew our cover," Pyrrhus reprimanded her.

"Yeah, well that's what happens when you pretend like I'm a helpless little girl," Cordelia snapped. "Or would you like to decide that in the arena? I'm sure that'd prove which of us is the helpless one in a _hurry_."

Pyrrhus sighed. "I was _trying_ to do something romantic, and since we never discussed what we were going to tell others about us, I figured that I was better off being discreet. I'd rather have you mad at me for this than mad at me because you wanted to keep things to ourselves for a bit and I didn't know."

She pursed her lips lightly. "Fair enough. You know, we really need to have a conversation about _us_."

"I know!" Pyrrhus nearly shouted. "We have to have a talk! Which is where we're going now, actually." They reached the end of the grass and the start of the tree branches. Pyrrhus found the piece of cloth he'd tied as a signal to the branch he'd prepared and led her out onto it. Breaking through the thick leaves, he revealed a small basket on the edge of a branch that stuck out rather farther than the others, giving them both a spectacular view of the lands below, and the sunset in particular.

"Ta-da!" He announced.

Cordelia sighed. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, Pyrrhus. This is really sweet."

"I know!" Pyrrhus affirmed again. "Now then, you just take a seat out there closer to the edge, since that's the better view." He tried to help her onto the branch, but she was more nimble and better with heights than he was, and sat down without any trouble. He sat down with a bit more difficulty and pulled the basket to him. He opened it up and began pulling out their meal. "Sorry that the food is just leftovers and such, I spent most of my time finding the spot."

"Oh, that's all right," Cordelia replied, comforting him. "I'd say that view is worth it."

They sat and ate dried meat and bread and Pyrrhus decided to start their discussion. "To start things off, I think it's important that we both be up front and honest here. To that end, I think we should agree that, as long as we're on this branch, we can't lie. Not even little white lies to make each other feel better. Deal?"

Cordelia nodded in agreement, patting the branch between her and Pyrrhus with her left hand. "I hereby dub this 'The Branch of Truth.'"

"Good. So, let's open with an easy one. What are we telling people about us? Frankly, I don't care either way, I just think we should reach a consensus."

Cordelia thought for a moment. "Well, I don't care either. I think it's safe to say that Frederick knows already, and I explained the situation to Sumia a few hours ago, which means Chrom will know before the end of the night. If we wanted to keep it a secret, I don't think that would last too long."

"I was going to ask if you'd spoken to Sumia about it, great. In that case, I say if anyone asks, we're dating, but that doesn't mean we just volunteer that information." Pyrrhus concluded. "That work for you?"

Cordelia agreed. "Yeah, that works. See, we're knocking these out like _that."_ She snapped her fingers. "Now, in this truth talk, we don't have to just ask about relationship stuff, right? We can ask other things?"

Pyrrhus tried to figure out where her mind was headed, but ultimately realized that that particular change to the rules would benefit him as much as her. "I don't see why not."

Cordelia gave him an evil smile. "Great! Now, how long have you had feelings for me?"

Pyrrhus frowned a little in embarrassment, but he knew he had plenty of his own arrows. "That night you came to see me in the Ylisstol, after you'd given me my first training lessons."

She pulled her head away in amusement. "Really? _That_ long ago? Sheesh! Although... I guess I should give you credit for keeping it under wraps that long."

"My turn," Pyrrhus insisted. "When I was in the infirmary tent, back at the harbor, and you were all lightheaded-"

Cordelia blushed. "Yes, that was because of you! I'd just realized how I felt and it was making me nervous. I managed to overcome it once it occurred to me that I couldn't get you interested if I was always acting helpless."

"Even that sigh?"

She rolled her eyes. "Pyrrhus, I've been sighing at you for _at least_ a week now. I'm beginning to think that Maribelle wasn't exaggerating yesterday." Pyrrhus frowned at her, but she ignored it. "Okay, my turn again. Do you want kids, and if so how many?"

That particular question blindsided Pyrrhus, mostly because he'd never given it much thought. So that's what he said. "I'm actually not sure... I think so though. Probably more than one. It'd be nice to have a son."

She breathed a sigh of relief, and Pyrrhus wondered if that question might have been more important to her than she'd let on. "Anyway, my turn. Hmm..." He looked around in thought for a minute. "Where do you see yourself in five years?"

Cordelia trilled her fingers on the tree branch as she thought. "Well, married... probably a kid on the way. Assuming this war is over by then, back in Ylisstol, advising the pegasus knights. You?"

"Pretty much the same," Pyrrhus replied. "Just change out that bit about pegasus knights and throw in something about advising Chrom. My turn again."

"Wait, what?" she asked. "It's my turn!"

"No it isn't," Pyrrhus denied. "You asked me where I'd be in five years."

She gave an annoyed frown. "I think I've been had."

Pyrrhus smirked broadly. "What a shame. Now then..." He wanted to do something personal. His eyes lit up as an idea struck him. "Have you ever... thought about me naked?"

Her face instantly turned bright red and she slapped him on the shoulder several times while he shook with silent laughter. She tried to stand up, but Pyrrhus grabbed her. "Nope, can't leave the Branch of Truth!"

She narrowed her eyes and gave him the angriest glare he'd ever seen from her, but, several seconds later, barely above a whisper, she muttered the word "yes."

Pyrrhus couldn't keep his laughter silent any more, and very nearly fell to his death as he rolled back on the branch. She continued her angry glare as the tactician desperately tried to contain himself, lest she be tempted to end her torment with a single swift push.

By the time he managed to sit back up, a stray tear was rolling down his right cheek. "Okay, I'm sorry, I'm _so_ sorry, but I couldn't resist."

She gave him the all-time poutiest pout. "Enjoy this moment, because I'm _going_ to make you pay. You just wait."

"I'm sure you will, and it will be well-deserved and just," Pyrrhus insisted. "But it's your turn now. So ask away."

"Well I'd ask you the same question, but I'm certain I know the answer!" she shouted. "How about this: what's the most embarrassed you've ever been?"

That one had Pyrrhus thinking for a second. "Well, I can't speak for the time before I lost my memory, of course. But if I had to choose one, I'd say it was the battle after we lost Emmeryn. I was off my game, as were we all, and I got caught in the inside of my thigh by a lance. It just barely nicked my femoral artery, and it brought me out of the action."

Cordelia furrowed her brow. "I don't remember that."

Pyrrhus nodded. "Yeah, we had to fix it on the battlefield, and, thank Naga, you were on one of those cliffs at the time."

Cordelia suddenly realized why that must have been so embarrassing. "Oh! Inner thigh!"

"_Upper_ inner thigh," Pyrrhus amended. "They had to take off my smallclothes to get to the wound. Another small miracle, it was Libra that was the closest healer. I'd never have been able to look Lissa or Maribelle in the eyes again otherwise. Of course, at that point I still thought Libra was a _woman..."_

Cordelia started laughing, but urged Pyrrhus to continue. "...So I'm lying on my back on the ground, and a perfect stranger is handling parts of me that seldom see daylight, trying get this wound healed. And Chrom and Gaius are both looking down at me while Libra does his... work, and I'm about to lose consciousness from the blood loss and the embarrassment from being cared for _in that area_ by a woman."

Cordelia had shifted from blatant laughter to sympathetic chuckles, but Pyrrhus grabbed her. "Not done yet."

"How could this get worse?" she asked.

"I'm glad you asked. Just as Libra was finished with the wound, Olivia arrived with the carriages to smuggle us out. The very first time she saw me, I was lying on the ground... exposed... and Libra was leaning over me. She fainted, dead away."

Cordelia lit up. "I actually remember landing and seeing Chrom using the smelling salts on her! Afterwards she said it was the blood on the ground, but I thought that was odd because she never reacted like that again."

"Well now you know the truth, and the most embarrassed I've ever been," Pyrrhus replied.

"That can't possibly be accurate. You must have exaggerated."

"Nope. In fact, I'll show you the scar if you like, it might make your imagination a little more accurate." He played at getting up, but Cordelia grabbed him and sat him down.

"No, thank you," she said firmly. "I'm sure it was the truth."

"The wonders of the Branch of Truth continue," Pyrrhus remarked. "Now, I believe the next question is mine."

She squinted at him nervously. "Fine... but another question like that last one and I'm done."

"Fair enough," Pyrrhus admitted. He was trying to think of a good one to ask when an old question popped into his head at random. "How come you always wear your armor?"

She closed her eyes and sighed, and Pyrrhus wondered if perhaps he'd asked the wrong question. "If that's too personal, I'll take it back. I'm sure I can think of-"

"No," she interrupted him. "It's something you should probably know anyway, if you're going to be my boyfriend." She reached up to her shoulders and undid the clasps holding the front and back of her cuirass. She shrugged the entire piece off, revealing the supple leather armor that was worn underneath the metal plates. "There," she said finally.

Pyrrhus looked at her, eyebrows raised. "I don't get it."

She placed the piece of armor on her right and turned around to face Pyrrhus. She straddled the branch, sitting cross-legged and looking at him head on. "You don't notice anything different? Anything... smaller?"

Pyrrhus shook his head, matching her seating style. "No, I don't... smaller- oh!" he nearly smacked himself in the head as he realized that the leather armor, pulled taut down her front, didn't bulge out nearly as much as her breastplate did. "Wait, that's what that's about?"

"I know," she replied, sighing. "For all my talk of striving for perfection, it's a rather obvious flaw, don't you think?" She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap.

Pyrrhus frowned in sympathy. "Oh... Cordelia..." She looked as though she was about to cry. "I don't care about that!" he insisted.

She looked back up at him. "You don't?" her voice carried a surprising amount of earnest hope. In that instant, Pyrrhus was delighted that they were on the Branch of Truth, because she could be sure he wasn't sparing her feelings.

He shook his head happily. "It's not what I look for in a woman's appearance."

She didn't seem to understand. "It's not? Then what _do_ you look for?"

Pyrrhus took her left shoulder in his right hand. "First of all, because I'm such a nice guy, I'm not going to count that as your question. Secondly..." He leaned in extra close, so that their foreheads were almost touching, and put his hand on her kneecap. When he spoke, it was a whisper. "I'm more of a leg man. And yours are _flawless_."

Her shoulders dropped, her head tilted to the side, and she sniffed once. "You mean it."

"Of course I do!" balked Pyrrhus. "I'm on the Branch of Truth! Why do you think I let Donnel slug me in the head with his axe the other day? I got distracted!"

She switched from heartbroken to shocked in less than a second, and her face flushed red once more. "When I was buckling my boot?"

"Yeah, I couldn't help but notice them! They're very distracting!"

She wrapped her arms around him, and they shared an awkward hug, both sitting cross-legged facing each other on the tree. She pulled away after a few seconds. "Thank you," she said, and even Pyrrhus could detect the palpable relief in her tone.

She turned back to facing the sunset, which by now was in full swing. Pyrrhus matched her, and they sat and watched the sun for a few minutes in silence. Eventually, she leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. He took the opportunity to put his right arm around her, hugging her gently. It really was a beautiful view. From the top of the tree, they could see for miles and miles. There was a forest to the northwest, and a small town to the southwest, just where the rest of the tree branches began to obscure the view. Surrounding the tree were miles of the same plains that they'd spent most of the last few days traveling. The orange-red sun shining on the spring grass made it look like a sea of gold stretched out before them. A few birds offered their songs to the couple, but the branch was mostly silent, save for the sounds of the pair breathing.

When the red sun reached down to touch the horizon, Pyrrhus spoke again. "It's your turn," he offered.

She pulled her head from his shoulder and looked up at him. "If you could wish for one thing right now, what would it be?"

Pyrrhus thought for a moment. "Well, I'd wish for all this war to be over and for peace to rule over Ylisse, but I don't think that's what you were looking for. So if I had _two_ wishes, then the _second_ one..." He pretended to think for a moment, but he knew his answer, because it was the same answer he'd had for months now. He looked down and captured her eyes with his. "I would wish that you would never again feel compelled to utter one of those little forlorn _sighs_ that break my heart whenever I hear them."

She sniffed, and her eyes started watering. Pyrrhus took the chance before she started crying to kiss her, and she returned in earnest. It was yesterday evening all over again, Pyrrhus thought. And that was just fine with him. Tonight, however, with the setting sun before them and the open air around them, he might even have judged it as more perfect.

Just as he'd settled on the term 'more perfect' however, they once more found themselves interrupted.

"Hey Pyrrhus, need a moment. Hey, Cordelia," Gaius said, as though he'd caught them discussing the weather.

Pyrrhus stifled the sudden onset of rage at being interrupted for the second time in two nights, breaking off the kiss, turning to Gaius, and replying, "Come on!"

He and Cordelia stood, and he got the feeling that the date was pretty much over at this point. She smiled and gave him a hug. "Thank you for dinner, I had a wonderful time." He walked her out of the mess of tree branches and back to the grass. She broke away from him with a kiss on the cheek, gave him a wave, and then turned around and headed in the direction of camp.

Pyrrhus could feel the silly grin on his face as he waved back, and took careful pains to shift back to a furious scowl for what would come next. He turned to face Gaius, who had watched all this happen with a perfectly blank expression. Pyrrhus mimed strangling him for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and counted to ten. "What can I do for you?" he asked angrily.

Gaius twirled the lollipop stick in his mouth. "Well first of all Bubbles, you gonna be making out like that you should probably warn a guy. I don't want to see it."

Pyrrhus just about lost it again at that comment. "What would you like, for me to leave a sign out front that says 'do not interrupt: _in flagrante delicto?'"_ He didn't even wait for an answer, because he knew Gaius didn't have one. "How did you even _find_ us anyway?"

Gaius sighed, rubbing his left shoulder. "Come on, Bubbles. You don't cover your tracks. I heard laughter and I saw the little piece of cloth you had hanging here." He pointed at the signal cloth Pyrrhus had used to relocate his chosen location.

Pyrrhus ripped the cloth from the tree, snapping the twig that bore it. "Whatever. Night's ruined, so thanks for that. How can I ruin your night in turn?"

Gaius smiled. "I mostly just wanted to thank you, actually. Sticking with Cordelia, pissing off Tharja, and then setting us _up_ together, all in the same day? That was really considerate."

Pyrrhus remembered a while back, when Gaius had asked him for assistance into Tharja's boudoir by dating the woman he was trying to get over, and to put them together in battle. He'd finally acquiesced to carrying out the latter today, but then... "Wait a minute, what did I do to Tharja?"

"Oh yeah, she caught you kissing Cordelia on the road today, apparently. She told me about it during the battle, that's why she was even sulkier than usual. But more important than that, right before she pushed me out of the way of an arrow, she checked me out."

Pyrrhus thought back to the battle, when he had noticed Tharja push Gaius aside. "I saw that happen, and I think you mean she _hip_-checked you out, Gaius. She knocked you to the ground."

"Yeah, but you didn't notice the look in her eyes. She was definitely interested."

Pyrrhus gave a sigh of exasperation. "You know what? Doesn't matter. Good luck _ever_ getting her to stand next to you again. After what you just did to me, you can be damn sure I'm not pairing you two up in the foreseeable future."

"That's cold, Bubbles," Gaius said bluntly. "What if I help you with Cordelia?"

Pyrrhus rolled his eyes so far he was pretty sure his irises disappeared under his eyelids. "What could you possibly do to 'help me?'"

"Here, next time you can't think of anything to say to her, look into her eyes and say this: 'I'm so lucky I found you.'"

Pyrrhus took a deep breath to retort, but paused before he could. His shoulders dropped and he looked down and to the left. "That's actually not bad." He looked back at Gaius. "But I'm refusing it on principle. I'd rather you suffer. Besides, it's not even _love__,_ you just want to get under her skirt."

Gaius frowned, bit down on the lollipop with a quiet _crack_, and shot him a glare. "I thought we were brothers, Bubbles. This hurts here," he said, pointing to his heart.

"No, it hurts down there," Pyrrhus retorted, pointing at Gaius's crotch. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some friends that _don't_ interrupt my private moments with my girlfriend, and I'd rather talk to them." The tactician stomped off back to camp in a huff.

As he walked back, he considered the depths of Gaius's transgression. Realistically, the date was probably about over already. Gaius hadn't screwed up _that_ much. Pyrrhus decided he'd forgive him tomorrow, though it wouldn't solve the situation with Gaius and Tharja. He did want to stay friends with Gaius, but he didn't want to cause Tharja any more distress. He'd probably just tell Gaius that it made him uncomfortable to intercede in such a personal matter.

But he'd do that tomorrow. Today had been stressful indeed. His time with Cordelia had gone about as well as he'd hoped. The battle had happened almost exactly according to plan. And he'd been given that Naga's Tear by Tiki. He'd have to decide what to do with that. What mattered was that he had time. It was only late spring: there would be months of travel and battle ahead. He had plenty of time to court Cordelia, to develop strategies against Walhart, to figure out his troubled dreams. With a smile on his face, he re-entered camp, and noticed that Sully was pulling together a group for poker night.

There was plenty of time for poker, too.

* * *

**A/N:** So there's a few things I need to get out of the way. First of all, I know that "hip checking" is a hockey term and it probably wouldn't exist in the Fire Emblem world, but I'm never one to let an anachronism get in the way of a pun. Maybe it's also a term in some Fire Emblem sport that doesn't exist _here_, think about that!

Secondly, someone mentioned that I'm deleting reviews? I haven't touched a single review that's been posted here. I'm not that familiar with the interface, so maybe I'm missing some option that automatically deletes anonymous reviews. I haven't done any deleting myself, however.

The reference from last chapter in the Maribelle/Cordelia conversation is to the movie _Swingers_. The two main characters are sitting in a diner at the end of the movie and they have a talk that's very similar to that one. Nobody guessed it, so I guess I made the reference a little too oblique.

Writing the last bit of this chapter, I was really tempted to have Gaius and Pyrrhus enter some sort of cockblocking war and spend the next chapter in an escalating series of ridiculous schemes (into which Cordelia would eventually get dragged). I decided to hold off, but I like the idea enough that there's no way I can't include something like it later. I'm on a bit of a tight schedule in terms of what I do each chapter, so I'm wary about an entire throwaway chapter that accomplishes no forward plot progression. Worst case scenario, I'll find it a home as a one-shot.

Next chapter, the Shepherds will travel to Rosanne and learn what's happening with the army. Pyrrhus and Cordelia will go out to dinner. There may be hijinks involved.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning, the Shepherds set out from the Mila Tree to meet up with the rest of the army in Rosanne and oversee the victory there. It would take them a week and a half to make it to Castle Virion. Instead, they decided to stop by the other main city in Rosanne, Mikal, on the way. Flavia had mentioned, before the army left, that she would send a detachment of soldiers to Mikal to scout the city and, if possible, begin the siege. Pyrrhus and Chrom decided that it would be a good idea to check up on those troops and see how things were faring. Mikal was almost on their way, so it would be a small detour, and the Shepherds might also be able to resupply there.

They journeyed along the high roads, and met with no Valmese soldiers, fleeing or otherwise. Pyrrhus was a little surprised about that, actually. He figured that Walhart would at least have regular patrols along the main thoroughfares of his empire. The Shepherds had journeyed to the Mila Tree without using the roads, because they did not want to risk alerting Valm prematurely. Either Walhart didn't care about his empire's citizens, or his troops were stretched so thin elsewhere that there were none to spare for road patrols. Pyrrhus didn't know which was more likely, and Say'ri's opinion was too biased for him to trust her answer, unless somehow Walhart actually _was_ shoving his own soldiers up his posterior.

As for he and Cordelia, they shared meals and talked in the early evening, but didn't have enough time for any sort of real date. She'd made him breakfast the morning after their first date, and he lamented that her cooking skill far outclassed his own. He wanted to come up with something that would really impress her, but that was tough when she was so naturally talented. Nevertheless, he had an idea that he brought to Virion, who was almost too happy to oblige. He also finally consented to her instruction in the lance, which allowed them a bit more time together, even if it was spent with her mercilessly besting him.

On the fifth day after their departure from the Mila Tree, the Shepherds first saw the city of Mikal. It was only midmorning, and the city was still a few miles off, so Chrom called Pyrrhus for an impromptu meeting. They pulled to the side of the cobblestone road, at a bit of a crossroads. They were surrounded by fields, large fields of wheat that were just sprouting.

"Sumia's scouting the enemy positions, but something's wrong," Pyrrhus began. "There's no soldiers outside the town. Are we certain that Flavia sent them?"

Chrom held out a curled piece of parchment. "I received this via courier a few days ago. Flavia claims that she sent five thousand men to Mikal, and that they would have arrived two days ago."

Pyrrhus tried to remain calm, but there were so many terrible possibilities. Perhaps they had been ambushed by Valmese, or slain by the city's defenders. The courier might even have been intercepted, and the message altered. The fog of war never ceased to make him jumpy, and when five thousand men represented a tenth of his current forces, to have lost them so easily was a terrifying prospect indeed. He took a few deep breaths. "We don't know anything yet. Let's wait for word from Sumia." Despite his desire to remain calm, he found himself pacing distractedly.

Chrom frowned at him. "Pyrrhus, you need to calm down. I'm sure everything's going to be fine. I kind of thought having a relationship would mellow you out a bit. Would you like me to call Cordelia back?"

Pyrrhus sneered at Chrom. "Oh, ha ha. You're one to talk. I see the way your eyes keep flickering to the sky. Looking for your beloved?"

"Okay, maybe I'm a _little_ bit nervous," Chrom admitted. "But at least I'm not wearing a path in those cobblestones."

They waited for word, Pyrrhus with his pacing and Chrom with his glances skyward. They didn't have to wait for long before Chrom called their attention to a rapidly approaching pegasus knight. When Sumia landed, she was nearly in tears. Chrom dashed forward to hold her, but she shook him off.

"You won't believe it!" she gasped, clearly winded from the flight.

Pyrrhus pulled out his canteen and handed it to her. "Slow down, take a deep breath, then tell us," he advised. Chrom still tried to get his arms around her waist, trying to comfort her.

"Chrom, I'm fine, everything's great!" she finally announced, after taking a few gulps of water. "Mikal is free!"

_"What?"_ Chrom and Pyrrhus asked in unison.

Sumia took another pair of breaths. "When I approached the city, I noticed that the defenses were manned by soldiers wearing Ylissean colors. I landed and spoke with the captain that Flavia sent. He said that they'd arrived two nights ago, and the Valmese soldiers had closed the gates to prepare for a siege. But then a group of citizens snuck into the gatehouse and opened a door to let in the Ylissean soldiers. Our men broached the city that night, got the gates opened, and slaughtered the Valmese to a man! Only a handful of deaths on our side! It's a miracle!"

Pyrrhus felt a huge weight off his shoulders. "No, Sumia, it's not a miracle. It's the flaw in Walhart's iron rule. It only lasts as long as the people he's controlling don't get a better offer."

Chrom was practically jumping up and down. "Now _this_ is how you win a war!" He clutched Sumia and spun her around in the air by her waist. "What's the word from the people?"

"The captain wants to speak to you as soon as possible, to arrange the terms for the control of Mikal. I told him I'd come and get you straight away."

Chrom looked to Pyrrhus. "I'm going to need my tactician," he insisted.

Pyrrhus shook his head. "No, I think you can handle without me. Someone needs to get the rest of the Shepherds to the city. You go on ahead and ride with Sumia, and I'll meet you in the city later."

"If you insist," Chrom replied. He climbed up behind Sumia.

"Just remember," Pyrrhus called to Chrom. "We can't spare more than a few hundred of our soldiers to watch over Mikal. We need every man we've got already."

"I'll keep it in mind," Chrom replied. "Sumia?"

And like that, Sumia's pegasus took a few steps to build up some speed and bolted skyward once more, leaving Pyrrhus in charge of the group. Pyrrhus tried to contain his excitement. This was just a small victory, really. He could win a hundred battles like this and still lose the war to Walhart. Valm could throw men at the problem until the sheer weight of their dead bodies was enough to crush the Ylissean League. But he allowed himself a smile. He had earned that.

"Sir?" Frederick asked from behind him. "What's the word?" Apparently he'd seen his lord depart and come to investigate.

Pyrrhus turned around to explain to the other knight. "Our soldiers took the city two nights ago with minimal casualties. Chrom is flying to the city to meet with the captain there and discuss the long-term plans. Give me a hand getting everyone caught up and back on the road, would you? I'm anxious to see this victory with my own eyes."

* * *

Early afternoon saw the Shepherds marching happily through the gates of Mikal to thunderous applause. Aside from the large number of Ylissean League soldiers that were there, it seemed that a good portion of the town had showed up as well. Pyrrhus felt more than a little embarrassed, really. After all, they hadn't done anything but give the orders to take the city. It was the soldiers themselves who had saved these people. But he took the appreciation in stride, and much of the group seemed to welcome the attention. Not wanting to impose upon the rest of the city, he led the Shepherds to the town barracks, where Chrom and Sumia were waiting.

Chrom decided to address the Shepherds as a whole first. With the group of them packed into the somewhat small first floor meeting room, it was a little tight, but they made do. It was a nice place for a barracks, but old; walls and floor of stone brick, but a ceiling and second floor of rough-hewn timber that had been worn over decades. Slit windows let in a bit of light from outside, but it was still dim within. Two sets of stairs branched outward from this main room, each leading upward. It seemed to be the division between the men's and women's side of the personal quarters, which were on the second floor.

"My friends," started Chrom, "We have been welcomed to stay here for as long as we wish by the ruler of this city, the Baron Timon. I insisted that we would only be staying for the night, and that we would be out of his hair tomorrow morning. Until then, he welcomes us to enjoy his city and take rest. He's promised to resupply our food stocks for our journey ahead as well!" A cheer went up from amongst the group. Pyrrhus knew they were all getting tired of the leftover rations that they'd been carrying since they left Regna Ferox. "For tonight, I insisted that we could share this barracks with the rest of the Ylissean soldiers. If any of you would prefer to purchase rooms at one of the local inns, just let me know and be back here an hour after sunrise." That particular comment was probably targeted towards the married couples in the group, who Pyrrhus knew would prefer an actual bed and solid walls to military cots. "Everyone, enjoy this night off, because you've earned it!" Chrom finished.

Pyrrhus, who had gotten himself distracted thinking about sharing a room at an inn with Cordelia, didn't notice the group dispersing or Chrom walking over to him. "So Pyrrhus, about your own concerns... Pyrrhus?" Chrom tapped his tactician on the shoulder.

"What now?" Pyrrhus asked, driven from his daydream.

"I asked the Baron how many soldiers he needed to keep this place safe," Chrom said. "He said that the city's got enough of a volunteer militia to hold on its own, but he'd welcome a hundred men or so to stay and keep the militia trained and ready."

Pyrrhus nodded. "I think we can spare that."

"We're lucky he didn't ask for more," Chrom said happily.

Pyrrhus wasn't so optimistic. "More likely, he wants to be sure that his own men could overpower ours once we're gone, just in case we decide to renegotiate our terms."

Chrom frowned. "I see. I suppose I'd want to do the same, in his shoes. He was just freed from the rule of one dictator, he wants to be sure he's not trading one set of chains for another."

Pyrrhus put his left hand on Chrom's shoulder. "He's got nothing to fear from us."

"No kidding," Chrom replied. "Now, I still need to see about securing a room at one of those inns for me and Sumia. By the way, if you'd prefer a more comfortable evening, let me know. I'd be happy to pay for my star tactician to have a night of luxury at The Dragon's Hoard. Timon says that's the nicest one in town. Maybe even invite Cordelia to treat herself too."

"Thanks, Chrom," Pyrrhus replied. "I'll think about it."

Chrom started to leave, but stopped. He turned around, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small pouch. He tossed it to Pyrrhus, who caught it. "Here, in case you change your mind. The inn's straight up the main thoroughfare, on the left."

"Thanks," Pyrrhus said, opening the pouch and looking inside. "This place must be pretty expensive. This is enough for two rooms, right?"

"Yeah," confirmed Chrom. "Or, you know, just one. Depending on how the night takes you," he added with a wink.

Pyrrhus waved his hand dismissively. "We've been dating a week, Chrom." He neglected to mention that his own mind had been in that very place just a minute prior.

Chrom shrugged. "Yeah, but you two had a bit of a head start. Not to mention we're in a war. Any of us could be dead tomorrow."

"Well, thank you for the vote of confidence in my tactics, especially after that optimistic speech you gave the rest of the Shepherds. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, since you confessed your love to Sumia and proposed to her on the same day. Have I mentioned how _weird_ that is?"

"Constantly."

Pyrrhus nodded. "Yeah, well, it bears repeating. I'll see you later."

Chrom waved goodbye, and Pyrrhus set out to find Cordelia. He knew where he'd find her, so he took his lance and shield and walked out the back door of the barracks to the training ground. It was a much smaller affair than the training grounds in Ylisstol, but adequate for the much smaller size of Mikal compared to Ylisse. The place was deserted, except for a solitary woman practicing her javelin technique. She noticed Pyrrhus watching her and walked over.

"Hey there, handsome!" Cordelia greeted him, removing her helmet.

Pyrrhus looked behind him, pretending that he thought she was addressing someone else, but the smile on his face gave it away. She frowned, and he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I knew I'd find you here," he said.

"Of course you did," she replied, giving him a quick peck and putting her arms around his neck. "You ready for practice?"

Pyrrhus blushed at her kiss, double checking to be certain they were alone. The compound was surrounded by stone walls on every side, so it was pretty private. "Umm... yeah. I was thinking though, afterwards, why don't we go have dinner at an inn? Can't be worse than rations, and I figure I'm about due to take you out for a real dinner." He held up the bag of gold. "It's on Chrom's gold, too."

"Hmm... sounds fun. We should have time, but only if we get started right away." She tried to pull away, but he held her fast.

"You're sure about that?" he asked, kissing her. "We could always skip today." He gave her another kiss, and then started kissing gently down her jaw until he reached her neck.

She moaned softly. "Mmm... tempting, but we should-" she inhaled sharply when Pyrrhus found her favorite spot. "We should really keep working on the lance."

Pyrrhus pulled away at once, ignoring the red that covered her face and neck. "Fine, let's get to work." He let her go and walked over to the training grounds. She took a few deep breaths before she followed.

They spent the next hour practicing javelin throwing. She was a wonderful teacher, as Pyrrhus had expected, though he did feel as though he wasn't keeping up with her lessons. He'd still improved a bit, even in just the week she'd been teaching him, particularly with javelins, which Frederick hadn't spent much time discussing.

As they squared off in the arena to begin sparring, she called out to him. "At this point, I think we need to start developing a signature style for you. You've got enough of a handle with the basics that you need to start working on specialty moves. I'm going to run you through a handful of advanced moves, and we'll see which ones you respond well to."

"Signature style, huh? What style is it that you use?"

Cordelia prodded with her lance to keep him on his toes. "Me? I use a heavily modified Catrian form."

"Be honest: did you just make that up?"

Cordelia looked at him aghast. "Of course not! It's an emphasis on agility and precision strikes, and holding the lance a bit closer to the point for better accuracy."

Pyrrhus thought for a moment. "Doesn't really seem like me."

Cordelia hid a smile, and Pyrrhus could tell she was about to make a joke. "Yeah, it's far too subtle for you. I'm thinking you need an emphasis on brute force."

"Thanks?" He wasn't sure if she'd just insulted him or not.

She didn't let him know either way. "You've got the muscle and size to use heavier armaments. Here, hold your lance like _this_..." she took a step closer and showed him the way she was holding her lance, prompting him to copy it. "Then pull back and stab forward, but put your body into it." She thought for a second. "Maybe we should use a dummy for this, actually." She walked over to a shelf holding a number of different practice weapons and took the biggest, heaviest spear on it. She handed it to him and directed him to a nearby training dummy. It was little more than a burlap sack filled with hay, with a spare helmet on top to represent the head. The whole thing was supported by a hefty wooden beam whose tip was buried in the ground.

"Why the dummy?" Pyrrhus asked.

Cordelia aimed him at the dummy, standing to his right. "This way I can critique you more closely, and you can get the feel for how it _connects_. You're new at it, and with the amount of force you'd put into this attack, my choices are either dodge it or get hurt, practice weapon or no."

"Okay, so how's this work?" he asked.

She put her hands over his grip on the lance, adjusting his finger position. "Try to remember what that feels like. Now, pull back, then step forward and use your momentum to put power into the lance." She demonstrated with her own weapon. "Like this!" She made a straight, perfect jab forward.

Pyrrhus watched her example carefully. "Got it." He jiggled the spear a bit, feeling the extra heft. Eyes focused on the dummy, hand in the suggested position, he took a step forward and struck.

"Yah!" The tip went right by the dummy's helmet, missing the target entirely. Pyrrhus sighed.

"Don't worry about it, try again," Cordelia said as he readjusted his grip.

Pyrrhus took a deep breath and held it. He pulled back, twisting his hand just slightly, and then stepped forward, putting all his strength into that one point.

_"Yah!"_

The lance tip tore right through the burlap sack, shattering the wooden post behind it with a ferocious _crack_ and a flurry of splinters.

Pyrrhus and Cordelia both stared, wide-eyed, at the lance tip. It had been buried in the mortar between two bricks in the wall surrounding the practice grounds of the barracks.

"Okaaay," Cordelia said finally, reaching over to the wall and pulling the lance free with some difficulty.

"What style was that?" Pyrrhus asked jokingly.

"I think it's called First Moenic. Seems to fit you pretty well."

"So what's so special about First Moenic?"

Cordelia narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, tapping her foot and evidently trying to recall something. "It's an old form, used by some great military minds of the past. It's slow, but it channels incredible force into a single point. The strike can rend even reinforced plate armor. It's complemented by axes, as well. It's said the great warriors of legend who used it actually attached their lances to their gauntlet with a long chain, so they could hurl the spear forward and pull back without moving."

Pyrrhus looked at the broken dummy and the new dent in the wall. "Well, I think we've found my style."

"No kidding," Cordelia remarked. "Now we just need to run you in it and build up the right muscles so you can do _that_," she indicated the dummy on the ground, "to anyone who wants us dead."

For the next hour, Cordelia coached Pyrrhus on using the new combat form. He discovered that he was having a heck of a time landing a hit on her, but when he did, he consistently knocked her to the ground. In the second half of the hour he managed to knock her from the arena twice, which before was all but unheard of. It was no comparison to the thirty times or so she'd done the same to him, but she too did seem to notice the change.

After two full hours of intense practice, Pyrrhus was ready to throw in the towel. "It's getting late, Cordelia. If we want to go to dinner we should probably finish up. I'll need a bath anyway, I'm all sweaty." He pulled off his helmet and revealed his brown hair plastered to his head and face.

Cordelia removed her own helmet, and Pyrrhus noticed that her hair was similarly affected. "Yeah, but I _like_ seeing you all sweaty," she joked.

Pyrrhus dropped his lance. "I doubt you like _smelling_ me all sweaty though."

"Tell you what," she replied. "You force me out of the arena, we'll be done for the day. But I won't be going easy on you, so you'll have to work for it!" She pulled her helmet back on, and Pyrrhus did the same.

His lance arm was pretty tired: he didn't think he'd be able to force her out, even if he did manage to land a hit. Ever prideful, he refused to merely admit that he wouldn't be able to force her out that way. Instead, he decided to try something else.

He began reaching down to pick up his lance, and Cordelia readied hers. Then, without grabbing the weapon, he bull rushed her at his maximum speed, catching her unaware. Which isn't to say she wasn't ready, just that he'd surprised her, and that was what he needed. Rather than moving out of the way, she attempted to swing her lance down and trip him up, but he anticipated that move and caught her lance in his right hand. She twisted and struggled to wrench the weapon from his grip, but he used that chance to get in too close for her to bring the weapon to bear. He let go of the weapon and grabbed her around the waist, hoisting her with one hand over his right shoulder. In her armor, she was not light, but he'd had enough training to lift her without difficulty.

She instantly began struggling and writhing in his grasp. "Let me go _this __instant!"_ she shouted, pelting his back with her fists.

Pyrrhus, now that he knew he had her, smiled impishly. "What's that?" he asked, spinning around suddenly. "Huh, thought I heard someone behind me."

"I'll kill you in your sleep!" she called.

Pyrrhus spun around again. "Now I _really_ want to put you down, so you can kill me."

Cordelia started kicking furiously, trying to shift his center of balance so she could escape, but the combination of Pyrrhus's larger size and his heavy armor made that quite difficult. "This is humiliating," she admitted finally.

Pyrrhus spun around once more. "I'm sorry, who's saying these things? Is there something I can do to help?"

Cordelia groaned, ceasing her struggle. "Please put me down, Pyrrhus."

The tactician walked over to the edge of the arena and gently set her down outside it. "I win. Let's go."

Cordelia tried to look angry, but Pyrrhus could see through it as she spoke. "You know, if you keep cutting short your training, you're never going to improve."

"For any rational person, two hours of practice is plenty," Pyrrhus reasoned. "Let's go get cleaned up. I'll meet you back in the common room first floor for dinner, okay?"

Cordelia agreed, and they walked inside and split up, each heading to their respective gender's quarters.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Pyrrhus had finished washing up and changing, and now waited in the first floor of the barracks for Cordelia. He'd removed his armor and, after a moment of thought, decided against the robes he typically wore when not in battle. Instead, he wore a smart-looking blue vest over a plain white button-down shirt and black slacks. He felt oddly like Virion or some other posh noble; these particular clothes had been tailored for him by Chrom's people to wear to official meetings. He had only worn them once before, as he typically preferred his regular clothes and Chrom never stood on ceremony. He was happy he'd thought to pack them, however, because he did admit they looked quite nice on him. At the last minute, he'd decided to throw on a black cloak in case of rain.

He sat and waited for Cordelia for a while. Just when he was starting to get nervous that something had happened to her, and stood to call up and make sure she was okay, he spotted her at the top of the stairs. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

She walked elegantly down the stairs. "I'm ready," she said, smiling.

"Cordelia..." Pyrrhus realized that his mouth was hanging open and closed it quickly. "What is... where did you get that?"

Cordelia looked down at the dress she was wearing. It was elegantly simple, not one of those ridiculous bulky things that ladies of the court wore. The bodice was bright green, sleeveless, with a low neckline, and the skirt was white cloth, not poofy and floating, but flat and simple. The skirt ended just above her ankles, revealing complementary green shoes and just a bit of skin. Compared to the outfits worn by Olivia and Tharja, it was positively conservative, but most would probably have considered it rather risque. She flashed him a smile. "Oh, this old thing? I only wear it when I don't care _how_ I look."

"Well now I _know_ you're lying," Pyrrhus replied. He did acknowledge, however, that she hadn't done anything to disguise her bust. If he was perfectly honest with himself, neither of their outfits were especially elegant, and they didn't need to be. They weren't attending a function of high society, they were just heading out to a nice dinner. But the shock of seeing Cordelia in something that wasn't her armor and complemented her figure made it feel to him like a very special occasion.

She laughed as she took the final step down the stair. Pyrrhus offered her his arm and she took it. "I know, I just heard that somewhere, and I always wanted to say it! I borrowed the dress from Sumia, actually. It's a little big in a few places, and a little short, but I so seldom wear anything besides my armor, I didn't even think to pack the few regular outfits I have! Speaking of which, who'd you steal those from? You look _very_ dapper!"

Pyrrhus shrugged. "I know, it's a shock, right? No, these are mine, I just only wear them on special occasions."

Cordelia spun him around to face her, and fiddled with his vest with her other hand. "Hmm... yes, blue really is your color. Handsome."

Pyrrhus took a deep breath and switched to a fake 'haughty' voice. "Well then, my lady, the nobility awaits! Shall we away to the party?"

Catching the joke, she switched to a severe and similarly elegant manner of speech. "Why yes, noble sir! We mustn't keep them waiting, so long as we still arrive fashionably late!" She gave a fake laugh that reminded Pyrrhus of a Maribellism, and he wondered if Maribelle had never said those exact words.

With Cordelia on his right arm, Pyrrhus strode out into the evening, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. It wasn't a long walk to the Dragon's Hoard, the inn that Chrom had recommended. Along the way, they discussed mundane matters, looked through the windows into shops that were about to close, and watched the other people in the city. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, and Pyrrhus at first considered the old adage that 'all the world loves a lover.' Then it dawned on him that they were probably just celebrating their newfound freedom. Regardless, it made for a lively walk, what with the people waving at them and smiling. It was almost surreal.

They arrived at the inn, a large, stone brick building with a tiled roof and a second floor overhang over the front door, marked by a swinging sign with a picture of a dragon on a pile of gold. Even from outside, Pyrrhus could hear the sounds of eating and the chatter of many people. Pyrrhus wondered if many of the other Shepherds would be inside. They'd doubtless see Chrom and Sumia, since he'd mentioned the place, and Pyrrhus guessed there'd be a handful of others there. He opened the thick wooden door and held it so that Cordelia could enter, and she thanked him sweetly. It was odd how she used to turn sarcastic when he was feeling chivalrous, but once they started dating, that had shifted to genuine thanks.

As Pyrrhus had expected, Chrom and Sumia were sitting at a table near the back, enjoying their dinner, and another large table was occupied by a group of other Shepherds, all dining together, and quaffing no small amount of wine in the process. Donnel, Gaius, Sully, Kellam, Lissa, Henry, Cherche, and Lucina were all chatting, mostly in pairs.

A young lady in a tunic approached. "Welcome to the Dragon's Hoard, the finest inn in Mikal, how can I help you?"

"Table for two, please..." he said quietly. "Away from the large group, if it's no trouble." The odds of the couple going the entire night without being spotted were slim at best, but there was no reason to _invite_ visitors, and Pyrrhus was hoping for at least a bit of privacy before their date became a group affair.

"Right this way," the young lady said, leading them to a small table in a quieter corner, near the back, and only a few tables away from Chrom and Sumia. Pyrrhus got Cordelia's chair for her, earning himself another genuine thank you before he took his own seat. "Tonight's dinner is roast lamb or oil poached salmon. Would you like to start off with some wine?"

"Yes, I'd like a glass," Pyrrhus replied. "And I'll have the lamb, thank you."

Cordelia looked at him curiously for a moment. "I'll have a glass too, and the salmon, please."

The waitress bowed and scurried off to fill the order. Pyrrhus matched her look. "What?" he asked.

"It's strange to have an evening out like this."

Pyrrhus shrugged. "I guess. But it's a good strange."

"Agreed. So, what shall we talk about?"

Pyrrhus thought for a moment. "You know, something's been bugging me. You mentioned that book, 'Make Him Fall for You in a Fortnight.' You said you were following its advice? I suppose I'm just curious to know if it worked. What did it tell you to do?"

Cordelia stifled a giggle. "No, it definitely didn't help. It said I should try and let you be a problem-solver, make you laugh, make it obvious I'm available. It said I should drop things, too. Then if you helped, it was a signal you were interested, or otherwise I'd be justified in bending over in front of you."

Pyrrhus chuckled under his breath. "That last one might have worked, actually."

She sighed. "I'm not much good at jokes, of course."

"I know, and I'm glad," Pyrrhus replied. "It seems like I spend every day putting up with some ridiculous person or another. It's so nice to have someone that _I_ get to be the ridiculous one around."

Cordelia smiled, and placed her hand over his. Pyrrhus put his other hand over hers, and for a minute they just sat there, looking at each other and enjoying the companionable silence. Pyrrhus stared into her eyes, eyes that always seemed to reflect the color around her. Most of the time that was the bright red of her hair, but tonight, lovely shades of jade green shone out at him from her dress. He felt intoxicated, and the waitress hadn't even brought the wine yet.

Suddenly, he caught movement in his periphery, and his eyes jerked to see Sumia dragging Chrom over to their table. Cordelia was facing away from them, so she didn't know what was coming. "Heads up," he said, and nodded in the direction of the oncoming couple.

"Pyrrhus and Cordelia, what're you doing here?" Sumia asked, approaching the table and holding Chrom's wrist firmly in her right hand.

Pyrrhus winced. "Oh, you know. Eating dinner. Talking. Enjoying our privacy." He desperately hoped that Sumia would take the hint, but alas it missed her.

"Oh, you two are just such an adorable couple!" she proclaimed, and Cordelia turned and smiled.

Chrom shot Pyrrhus an apologetic look from behind Sumia before he began speaking. "Yes, they really do seem like a good match."

"And the fact that I got to play matchmaker for them, it just makes me feel so good," Sumia continued.

"Honey," Chrom began, "Why don't we let them enjoy their dinner? I'm sure we're interrupting them."

"Oh, nonsense!" Sumia replied, in a rare case of utterly misreading the situation. "Oh, I know what we should do! We should double date sometime!"

Pyrrhus found himself breathing more rapidly as Cordelia pulled Sumia to face her. "What a wonderful idea!" she said, and Pyrrhus realized that she wasn't lying to Sumia. He looked to Chrom, who was holding a fist to his forehead. Pyrrhus checked to make sure neither woman was looking his direction, and quickly held both hands around his neck, as though he were trying to throttle himself. Chrom had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing.

The waitress walked over with the two glasses of wine, looking very confused. She set them down on the table, and Pyrrhus thanked her. She looked at the pair standing at the table. "Are these two joining you? We have tables for four."

Pyrrhus shook his head in wide-eyed terror, and she left, thankfully before either of the women could break from their conversation to address her. The tactician knew there was only one way to get out of this. He got Chrom's attention and pointed at him.

Chrom got the message. "Sumia, we should let these two dine in peace. Our food's going to get cold, and we have a full night ahead of us."

Sumia pouted and glared at him, but apparently decided that her husband was right. "Oh, fine, let's go. Cordelia, Pyrrhus, great to see you two together. See you tomorrow."

Cordelia and Pyrrhus both waved goodbye as the other couple walked back to their table. Cordelia turned back to Pyrrhus, picked up her wine glass, and took a sip. "Mm! So, double date, fun right?"

Pyrrhus sighed. "Is it too late to take you up on that offer to kill me in my sleep?"

Cordelia frowned. "What's wrong with a double date? They're our friends, we like them."

Pyrrhus held up a finger in objection. "First of all, we like them... _separately_. When they're together, they're a little awkward." His mind flashed back to their argument in the ship infirmary. "Secondly, we've been dating for a _week_. They've been married two years. Just consider how uncomfortable all their questions are going to be."

She looked away for a moment as she realized what he was saying. "You know, I hadn't really considered that. This could really be awful!"

"Well, it's too late now," Pyrrhus said resignedly. "At least we'll have each other for comfort, I suppose."

Cordelia didn't seem to hear him. "I've never been on a double date before, so the idea seemed so intriguing."

"It's not your fault," Pyrrhus replied. "You were drawn in by the siren song of sharing a meal with another couple."

The waitress appeared, presented them each with a plate of food, and disappeared again. The pair ate quickly, discussing ways they might weasel themselves out of ever double dating, and when they were done the waitress took the plates away.

"Don't leave just yet," the waitress cautioned, holding their empty plates. "We've got a band starting to play in a bit. Stay, have another glass of wine, they won't be long."

Pyrrhus caught Cordelia's eye and smiled. "Well," Cordelia replied. "Dinner _and_ a show, how could we refuse?"

The couple sat and waited as a few empty tables were removed by the wait staff and a wide expanse of floor was cleared on the far side of the room. When the space was clear, a quartet of musicians walked down from a set of stairs behind the bar, which Pyrrhus guessed led to the inn's sleeping quarters. They each carried a woodwind instrument, and they began warming up while the crowd hushed. There was a flute of some kind, a pair of slightly longer looking instruments, and then one that was so large the musician had to play it seated. Pyrrhus knew very little about orchestral instruments, so he had no idea what to call them, but the sound of them playing in unison was lovely.

The man on the flute took a step forward and addressed the crowd. "Tonight's performance is dedicated to the Ylissean League, for freeing us from the tyranny of Walhart the Conqueror. As our tribute, our first song tonight is one sung by Ylisse soldiers on the march. Any of you who know the words, please sing them with us! Ladies and gentlemen, we present _The Victorious Dead._" He turned around and put his instrument to his lips. The one with the large instrument tapped out a steady beat. Pyrrhus knew _The Victorious Dead_ by heart, as the Shepherds sang it all the time. When the instruments began playing, Pyrrhus found himself belting out the words alongside Cordelia.

_The soldiers march for home again,_

_They feast on meat and bread,  
_

_Light of the sun begins to wane,_

_And they hail the victorious dead!_

_Through battle fierce and foggy night  
_

_And to the break of day,_

_The goodly man will stand and fight_

_Righteous heart shan't be driven to stray!_

_Hoo-rah, hoo-rah, hoo-rah, hum!_

_They hail the victorious dead!_

_Hoo-rah, hoo-rah, hoo-rah, hey!_

_Honor to those who've bled!_

The song had six verses, but the band's rapid pace meant it only took a couple minutes to play. When the song was over, the room applauded, and the Shepherds (and a few others in the crowd) gave a standing ovation. The musicians each bowed, and the flautist struck up another fast number that Pyrrhus didn't know, but most of the crowd did. He figured it was probably a local song. It was lively and entertaining nonetheless, and Pyrrhus tapped his foot in time with the tune. Despite the rapid pace, the song lasted quite a while. Once again, the musicians finished and bowed to widespread applause.

"Okay then, ladies and gentlemen, we're going to slow it down a bit now. This next piece is _The Two Rivers__ for Quartet_, by Hyon Rickde. Those of you who are comfortable with a waltz, we welcome you to adjourn to the dance floor before us."

Pyrrhus took a deep breath. Cordelia, watching the instruments, didn't notice him stand up or walk over to her. He held out his hand with a hint of a smile. "Would you like to dance?" he asked.

Cordelia gasped. "You... know how to dance?" she asked in surprise, placing her hand in his. In lieu of a response, he pulled her to her feet and led her out to the floor.

The music began with Pyrrhus and Cordelia and a pair of other couples out front. They clasped hands and began, Pyrrhus directing her a bit erratically but clearly not without practice. As he spun her around, she met back with him with a look of complete shock. "Since when do you know how to dance?" she asked.

Pyrrhus, not missing a step, replied. "I got Virion to teach me."

She blinked a few times. "Virion. Well, I guess he'd know."

"The hard part was getting him to let me lead," Pyrrhus said jokingly.

"Why didn't you just ask Olivia for help then?"

Pyrrhus blanked. "Where were you when I was trying to come up with this?" he asked. "And here I thought I was so clever when I had this idea the other day."

Cordelia laughed. "Well, Virion must be a pretty good teacher if it's only been a few days. You're not half bad."

Pyrrhus spun her again. "Well, as Virion puts it, 'in a couple's dance, the woman does all the hard parts.' The real burden's on you."

Cordelia laughed. "Well, either way, I'm very impressed." As Pyrrhus turned them both, he saw the group of Shepherds watching him. Most of them hadn't yet learned that he was dating Cordelia. He supposed those days were over.

The song continued, and so too did the dance. The two of them were the only Shepherds on the floor, it seemed, although several other couples did join the initial three after the ice was broken. There were several young couples about Pyrrhus's age, and a pair of older couples that could have been his parents. Most of them were quite skilled dancers, and they made Pyrrhus feel a bit self-conscious of his own rather clumsy box step. Cordelia, to her credit, didn't seem to mind one whit, and the smile on her face as they moved and turned almost made his heart ache. In that moment, he realized just how much her happiness meant to him. Never in his memory of life could he recall any point where someone else's mood could affect him so greatly. Sure, if Chrom was having a bad day, he could bring Pyrrhus down a bit, but this was completely different. On the most outward, direct level, he felt silly and embarrassed, parading himself in front of his friends and constantly terrified of stepping on his girlfriend's toes, but beneath that he was absolutely ecstatic. He was a private man, and his friends were privy to his intimacy with Cordelia. And yet he didn't care.

The song came to an end, and Pyrrhus figured he might as well alleviate any remaining doubt in their minds. Remembering his lessons with Virion, he dipped Cordelia elegantly, watching with a smirk as Lissa's mouth gaped open. Yes, the whole camp would know by tomorrow. He drew her up slowly, and they shared a quick kiss as the audience broke into applause.

The band switched to a slow song, and Pyrrhus held Cordelia just a little bit closer. He closed her hand in his, felt her body pressed against him as they swayed to the music. She rested her head upon his neck, looking away, and he brought his to rest on her red hair. She'd taken the little wing clips out of her hair. He remembered her say that she used them to keep her hair out of her face when a helmet wasn't an option. They song they were playing was so sad, and yet there was a bit of a hopeful twinge in it. He watched one of the older couples. The man had clearly been built like a brick wall in his youth, but his body bore the worn-out sort of look of someone who's had too many years to be considered the prime of his life. His wife, as Pyrrhus could tell by the ring on her finger, had an elegant highlight of dark brown to her mostly-gray hair. Aside from sharing a hair color and a dance, the woman was quite different from her husband. She was slight, and a little short. But she bore herself with such stateliness that the subtle wrinkles in her skin looked less obvious. Pyrrhus wasn't a person who planned out a long and fruitful life, but he couldn't help but wonder if he and Cordelia would look anything like that at their age.

A thought popped into Pyrrhus's head. "You know, Cordelia, we've never talked about your family."

"I know," she replied. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, since you don't remember your mother and your father is Validar."

"I don't mind," Pyrrhus said. "As far as I'm concerned, the Shepherds are my family. But I'd like to hear about yours."

"Well," Cordelia began, "My father was a knight under the old Exalt, Chrom's father. His leg was injured in battle and he couldn't ride any more, so he was sent back from the crusade against Plegia. He was living in Ylisstol when he met my mother, the daughter of his former captain. I'm told their romance was something worthy of legend, though my sources are less than reliable," she admitted. "Eventually, he was appointed to oversea a watch tower on the border, it's still there, called Red Forest. My Mom came to visit him a week after he'd arrived, and he proposed to her on the tower rampart, under the light of a full moon. They married and moved to the little town of Brindlow, which is right near Red Forest. My father took his duty to the Exalt very seriously."

"Sounds like someone I know," Pyrrhus said, smirking.

"Uh huh," Cordelia replied distractedly. "I was born there, in Brindlow. When the war was finally over and Emmeryn took over, my father was offered a position as an adviser to the local Earl Woodward. That's how I met Sumia, actually. Her father was another adviser."

"Does your father still work for the Earl?"

"As a matter of fact, he does. I'm very lucky, actually. Mom and Dad are both wonderful. I went to visit them before we were called back to aid Regna Ferox. I'm sure they'd love to meet the man who makes their daughter so happy."

Pyrrhus thought for a moment. "I'd like to meet them too," he answered honestly. "Perhaps the next time we return to Ylisse."

She squeezed his hand and smiled. "It's a date."

They danced for maybe half an hour before they grew tired and returned to their table. Pyrrhus took a sip of wine as he contemplated the evening. Considering what a fool he'd made of himself on the dance floor, he felt quite proud, and remarkably lucky. He'd had no clue that there was to be a band that night, or that he'd get the chance to show Cordelia that he'd been taking initiative. He had been hoping for a simple night out and a good dinner that wasn't trail rations for once.

Not long after, the band finished their song. The flautist spoke once more. "Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes our performance this evening. With that, the Dragon's Hoard will be closing for the evening. If you've purchased a room, you're welcome to stay down here as long as you like, but the bar will be closing in ten minutes, so get your nightcaps now. For those of you who were just here for the evening, thank you for visiting the Dragon's Hoard, please remember to tip your wait staff, and good night." The fellow with the big instrument stood up, and the four of them marched back up the stairs from whence they'd come.

Pyrrhus turned to Cordelia. "Well, that's that then. Shall we go?"

Cordelia looked at him in mild surprise. "You didn't purchase us a room?"

His heart skipped four consecutive beats as a flurry of emotions tore through him. He had five different responses, but, unable to decide on any one, uttered a bizarre jumble of words instead. "You wanted- I should- I'll get- I didn't think- room here." He shut his mouth, held up a finger, took a few seconds, and organized his thoughts. "We've only been dating a week, you think we're ready for that?"

Cordelia, who had maintained an impassive expression for the entirety of Pyrrhus's fumbling, broke the facade, revealing a mischievous grin. "Got you!" she said, and started laughing.

Pyrrhus could feel the red in his face, and resignedly put his head in his hands, elbows up on the table. "Of course," he admitted.

"Consider yourself paid back for embarrassing me on the Mila Tree!" she continued. "I told you I was going to make you pay."

Pyrrhus tried not to smile. "Yes, you did tell me," he agreed. He stood up, walked around to the other side of the table, and helped Cordelia out of her chair.

They left the Dragon's Hoard, arm in arm, as Pyrrhus saw Chrom and Sumia rushing upstairs. Judging by the moony look on Chrom's face, the pair were about to engage in some married-style behavior.

Cordelia looked at him curiously. "What's with that disgusted look on your face?" she asked.

Pyrrhus shook his head, trying to dissipate the image of his two friends being intimate. "Nothing, dear," he replied.

"You were thinking of Sumia and Chrom, weren't you?" she guessed.

Pyrrhus's mouth dropped open in surprise. "How'd you know?"

Cordelia chuckled. "They're entitled. After all, they're married."

Now it was Pyrrhus's turn to laugh. "Not being married didn't stop them. Suffice it to say that I headed to Chrom's bedroom early one morning to get his opinion on some military appointments about two weeks before the wedding. The noises I heard..." Pyrrhus shuddered. "It's a good thing, actually, because if I'd actually walked in, _that_ would have been the most embarrassing moment of my life, not the one I told you about last week."

Cordelia smacked him on the shoulder. "Oh, great, thanks for telling me _that_, now it's in _my_ head too!"

When they returned to the barracks, they said goodnight in the main chamber.

Cordelia wrapped her arms around Pyrrhus's neck. "Thank you for a wonderful evening."

Pyrrhus chuckled. "Wouldn't have been half as wonderful if you weren't there."

Cordelia looked away for a moment. "You know, I think there's still one thing missing to keep this from really being a perfect evening."

"What's that?" Pyrrhus asked, though he had a pretty good idea. He put his hands on her hips. In lieu of a response, she raised her eyebrows a few times. Pyrrhus nodded. "Oh, right. That." He leaned down and captured her lips in his. Hers parted gently, allowing his tongue in to explore her mouth. His pulse skyrocketed, and as he pulled her against him, he could feel his passions building.

Apparently she had noticed it too, because she broke off the kiss. Pyrrhus felt a wave of embarrassment, but she just smiled and said, "Well, looks like somebody _was_ expecting that room at the inn."

Aware now that she didn't mind, Pyrrhus renewed his advances, leaning Cordelia against the barracks wall and pressing her against it in the depths of his passion. He kissed down her neck, the way he knew she loved, and her hands dropped from his neck to grab at his chest. In response, he moved one of his hands down from her waist to her leg, pulling it up against him and caressing the smooth skin of her thigh as he continued assaulting her neck. She moaned softly, wrapping the leg around his, and the man nearly lost himself in the frenzy. Somewhere, in the back of his head, the sensible person that dominated the majority of his personality was wondering if she hadn't been serious about the whole room joke. And though the creature of instinct held the reins, the sensible man took the opportunity to knock that creature aside and regain control.

Pyrrhus pushed himself away from the wall and Cordelia, who was flushed all the way down to her shoulders and panting lightly. Afraid to let the beast gain dominance once more, Pyrrhus looked away from her. "We should say goodnight."

Cordelia spent a few seconds regaining her composure. She took a deep breath, in through her mouth and out through her nose. "Yes, that's a good idea." She leaned over and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight, Pyrrhus."

"Goodnight, Cordelia." She shook her head a bit, turned away, and walked up the flight of stairs that led to the female dormitory. Pyrrhus watched her depart, and for a moment was afraid that the sight of her would draw out the beast once more, but she was gone before he could reawaken. He brushed his hands through his hair. That was a close one. He hadn't thought they were ready to take... that step... in their relationship, but it seemed his body felt differently. Would she have tried to stop him if he hadn't regained his senses?

It wouldn't do to dwell on the question, he decided. Best to put it out of mind for now. He wandered up the opposite flight of stairs, to the male dormitory. Most of the cots were already filled, by Shepherds, Ylissean soldiers, or Rosanne militia. He stumbled to the back, where a few empty ones remained. He removed the vest and shirt, shed his pants, and collapsed onto a cot. As slumber took him, he knew what he'd be dreaming that night.

* * *

**A/N:** Holy cow, a hundred reviews! That's, like, more than ten reviews per chapter! You are all so amazing, and every time I see a new review in my inbox it invigorates me to keep going. So thank you all so much, I really do appreciate it.

Sorry if this one's a bit delayed, but it's another double-length chapter, so I figured that would make up for it. In this chapter, we have another relatively minor military success and we see the limitations afforded by Walhart's sudden expansion. An enemy occupation can only last so long as the occupied don't see any better opportunities. That said, this didn't happen very frequently throughout history because the Ylissean League's "Free Valm from Walhart" sort of plan wasn't something that was done up until the last couple hundred years. Normally, the Ylissean League would be annexing these lands when they conquer them, and the civilian populace would have to weigh whether the devil they knew was worse than the one on their doorstep.

Pyrrhus and Cordelia get pretty close this chapter, and it's a delicate subject to broach. This story is rated Teen, which I generally assume means "if you'd see it on primetime network TV, it's acceptable here." As such, this chapter is about as explicit as I'm likely to get. Even writing just this made me feel really uncomfortable, and I'm hoping that didn't show up in the writing. But my point is, it won't ever get more risque than that. I should add that, if this story weren't partially inspired by Game of Thrones, there'd still be premarital sex. It's always been a thing, even if it's been frowned upon historically, and these people are (supposed to be) adults whose lives are at risk every day. There is zero chance that most of them aren't having sex, married or no. The exceptions will be the characters that don't look like adults. I don't intend to pair Nowi or Ricken (so Nah will probably be excluded from this story, sorry), and much as I love the character Owain, it'll be walking a fine line indeed for me to have Lissa dating or marrying anyone without it being _super creepy_.

Speaking of _super creepy_, I should keep a log of all the Wikipedia articles I search through while writing each chapter. Highlights for Chapter Ten? I actually had to look up the names for the different parts of a dress, so clueless am I. And boy was I embarrassed by having to run a GIS on medieval dresses for some inspiration. Suffice it to say these aren't things I think about very often. Or ever.

These last few chapters seem to be taking me longer to write in terms of the number of hours I've spent on them. If that continues, I may write a few more chapters and end this fic, take a few weeks to a month to regroup, and start a sequel story that would be the second half of this story. The added time spent may just be because these chapters were both so long, so it may be that I'm worrying needlessly.

Next chapter, Pyrrhus and Cordelia will discuss the events that transpired above, the Shepherds will journey to Castle Virion, and Pyrrhus will get some bad news and act poorly on it.


	11. Chapter 11

The Shepherds departed Mikal early that morning, eating breakfast from trail rations on the road. Pyrrhus noticed that more than a few Shepherds looked a little hungover, and Virion was having a little hair of the dog from his flask. Pyrrhus felt awkward, but for different reasons. Word of his evening had spread amongst the Shepherds, and everyone seemed to be staring or laughing at him. He received no shortage of winks and nudges, either.

An hour into the march to Castle Virion, Cordelia landed next to him to chat. Pyrrhus ignored the various smirks from everyone else as they conversed quietly. Pyrrhus decided to start. "Listen, Cordelia, I wanted to start off by apologizing for last night."

Cordelia held up a hand. "Oh, no, I understand. No apology necessary."

"I really feel like you deserve one, though. The fact is we haven't been dating very long, and I shouldn't have been so direct."

Cordelia tried once again to stop him. "Pyrrhus, I understand, really-"

Pyrrhus interrupted her and continued. "Because I'm crazy about you, and this week has been the happiest of my life, and I'd never forgive myself if I screwed up what we have together."

Cordelia's eyes flew open wide at the word 'crazy' and she began blushing up a storm. Suddenly aware of what he'd said, Pyrrhus grew too embarrassed to look at her any more.

He couldn't bring himself to say anything else, so Cordelia started again. "You don't have anything to worry about. I was about to stop you, and I don't think that, had we continued, it would have done any damage to _us_. But you're right, we should take things slow. Because..." She took a deep breath. "I'm crazy about you too."

Pyrrhus felt a big knot in his throat, and it was as though he was both delighted and melancholy at the same time. He took Cordelia's hand and squeezed it.

* * *

The march to Castle Virion took a week. They arrived in the late evening on the sixth day out. The place looked a lot like Mikal: it was a large, walled city, surrounded by fields, except that a large keep dominated the center of town, surrounded by a second wall. Pyrrhus and the Shepherds found the Khans and the majority of the Ylissean League troops stationed outside the outer wall, effectively laying siege to the city. Chrom called a meeting of the small council with the Khans and Virion to discuss the situation.

The Khans, who were still dispensing orders to the troops, were the last to enter.

"Good, now we can begin," Chrom started. "So, Flavia, perhaps you'd like to tell us how things here are going?"

"Sure," she replied. "So, we got here ten days ago and parleyed with the local despot, man named Jonel, who's got the city under his finger on Walhart's orders. He's got the gates locked up tight and he's ready to withstand a long siege. Gates're thick and reinforced with metal, we're not getting through them without some serious siege weapons."

"Our engineers are already searching out the lumber to begin construction of rams, ladders, and trebuchets," Basilio took over. "But they say it'll be a while. There's no good trees local."

"We have a more pressing issue," Pyrrhus insisted. "Our delay of the Valmese force won't last much longer. They've probably already reached the Mila Tree and realize we're not there."

"You're saying we don't have time to get these siege weapons ready, then?" Chrom asked. "What other way is there?"

Pyrrhus thought aloud. "Let's see... tunneling would take longer. We've only got a few days. Virion, how long do you think your city can withstand a siege?"

Virion shook his head. "They have an independent source of water and food enough to last at least a few months without outside aid. And Valm could still potentially sneak supplies in at night by wyvern if things got desperate."

"It's a pity the people aren't on our side and willing to let our men into the city like in Mikal," Chrom lamented.

"They're on our side," Flavia corrected, "But Jonel has the whole place wrapped up tight and they're probably more afraid of him than they're fond of us."

"And any sympathy to our cause is likely to evaporate once the food starts to get low," Pyrrhus added.

Virion cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but I may have the solution."

All eyes turned to the foppish man. He continued unfazed. "I know of a secret route into the castle. It was intended to be an escape route, and in fact it's how I escaped Castle Virion a few years ago. However, I know how to find the way in."

Pyrrhus smiled. "That's great! It won't be big enough for the whole army, but... an elite force could use it to sneak into the castle and assassinate Jonel and his followers. If we can do that, and reinforce with a few hundred soldiers after the coast is clear, retaking the city should be simple_._"

"The secret entrance is tiny, much too small to go more than single-file," Virion explained. "It will open out to the back of the throne room. Unfortunately, it will also be too tight for horses."

"The group will need to be small," Pyrrhus reasoned, "if we're not to draw too much attention. If an alarm is sounded and the troops called back from inside the city before we have a chance to lock down the castle, we'll be sitting in a deathtrap. I would suggest a team no larger than six, in case we get ambushed, so the rest of the Shepherds remain unharmed. Under the circumstances, Chrom, I'd suggest that you remain here, for all the good my suggestion will do."

"Not a chance," Chrom responded. "I'm going to be there for this one. Who else will be going?"

Frederick, for the first time that night, spoke up. "I would like to volunteer to take point, my lord. You need someone with heavy armor to take the lead, and I am skilled enough off my mount to handle it."

Lucina's eyes widened and her face looked fearful. She looked at Pyrrhus, but remained silent.

"Good," Chrom agreed. "You're in. Pyrrhus, I'm assuming you'll be going too?"

"Not exactly my ideal evening, but I'm not letting you go in there without me," Pyrrhus replied. "Need to have someone there to pull your ass outta the fire when things go pear-shaped."

"You're implying that things won't go smoothly?" Chrom asked. "Shouldn't you be more confident in your own plan?"

"I would," Pyrrhus replied, "if things ever _did_ go smoothly."

"Well, that's three," Frederick said. "That leaves three more. Who else would you suggest?"

Pyrrhus scratched his chin contemplatively. "Well, I'd say Gaius would have the most experience in these sorts of situations, so he'd be another good choice. If Henry can keep from laughing for ten consecutive minutes, I think he'd be worth bringing along. And... Lucina? I guess you're interested in coming along." The woman was currently staring at Frederick and hadn't seemed to notice him mention her name. "Lucina?" he said again.

The repetition of her name brought her out of her fog. "Say what?"

"Would you like to be part of the infiltration team?" Pyrrhus asked again.

Lucina nodded. "Oh, yes. I'll do that."

From Pyrrhus's view, even Chrom could tell that Lucina was distracted. The prince looked askance at her as he said, "Good. We strike just before dawn, then?"

"Best time to attack an entrenched foe," Pyrrhus replied. "Get 'em right before the shift change, when everyone's sleepy and not paying attention."

Chrom turned to his lieutenant. "Frederick, spread word of our plan to the rest of the Shepherds. Make sure you keep it quiet, there's no way to be sure Jonel doesn't have spies in the camp, and we can't risk losing the element of surprise."

The knight bowed. "Certainly, my lord."

"Everyone else, get some rest while you can. We've only got a few hours before the attack begins."

The group filed out, but Pyrrhus noticed Lucina lag behind. Memories of their first real conversation, in this same tent on a different continent, flashed through his mind. Sure enough, when everyone else was gone, she walked up to Pyrrhus.

"What's going on, El?" Pyrrhus asked. "It's not like you to lose focus on the mission."

She addressed him furtively. "The mission is precisely what we must discuss. I remember hearing about this battle from my father. You must alter the plan before the attack begins."

"Why's that?" Pyrrhus asked. "If you heard about it from Chrom, that means this can't have been where he dies."

"No, Chrom survives this battle unscathed. But Frederick is mortally wounded and dies before aid can be brought to him."

"Frederick?" Pyrrhus could scarcely believe it. The man was a brick wall. In all the time Pyrrhus had spent guiding the Shepherds, he'd never even heard of Frederick being wounded, much less killed. Still, if anyone would know, it would be Lucina.

Pyrrhus ran a hand through his hair, his eyes flicking around the tent anxiously. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked.

"I do not know," Lucina replied. "I only know that, if Frederick takes point in this attack, he will die."

"Okay," Pyrrhus said distractedly. "I'll... think of something before the attack. Don't worry, I'll make sure Frederick lives."

* * *

_Pyrrhus limped down the hallway of Ylisstol's main chamber. Every step on his right leg brought a jolt of pain, and so he leaned heavily upon the javelin in his right hand. It was of unique manufacture, evidently handmade. The intricate carvings along the side were inlaid with gold, and the tip had a beautifully simple curved pattern to the edge. His armor was heavier than he remembered, and he could barely see over his own shoulders._

_He found the person he had been looking for, apparently. It was Lon'qu, standing at attention with sword in hand. "Report," Pyrrhus barked._

_"Yes sir," Lon'qu replied. "Enemy forces are fleeing to local towns and seeking refuge there. Our soldiers are searching the towns, but it will take time."_

_Pyrrhus growled. He scratched his cheek, discovering it to be scruffy and unshaven. By the feel, he hadn't had a trim in over a week. "No time," he replied. "Tell the men to put the towns to the torch unless the locals surrender the refugees."_

_Lon'qu widened his eyes in shock. "Sir... that's murder. I will not condemn civilians to death."_

_"They're harboring fugitives, and this is _war!"_ Pyrrhus shouted. "They surrendered their innocence when they took those men in." Pyrrhus turned to walk away._

_Lon'qu wasn't done, however. "I refuse to comply with your command," he said._

_Pyrrhus whirled back around, eyebrows furrowed in anger. "Listen up, you Feroxi hound. I give the orders, and you comply."_

_"I will not comply with orders that I find to be unethical," he answered plainly._

_Pyrrhus was furious. "__How _dare_ you refuse an order! You _coward!"

_Lon'qu's eyes lit with his own trademark silent fury. "If you were any other man..." the swordsman let the threat lay idle._

_Pyrrhus turned back around. "Follow my orders or leave, and I'll find someone who respects the chain of command." He smiled ruefully. Lon'qu would listen. He certainly wouldn't resign, not over this. He stumbled on his right leg again as he took a step away, and caught himself on the javelin. He took another step forward, but came to a halt when he heard a clattering from behind him. Pyrrhus turned around once more and saw Lon'qu's blade lying on the ground. The swordsman was gone._

_"Coward!" Pyrrhus shouted out to nobody in particular. "Traitorous, pathetic man! You'll hang for this!" He stepped forward to pick up the dropped blade, but the pain in his right leg swelled and he couldn't catch himself in time with the javelin. He tumbled to the ground as his leg gave out, and lay there, sprawled upon the ground, shouting a stream of curses to the sky. The javelin was out of his reach, and he had to crawl along the stone floor of the castle to grab it._

_He looked up and down the hallway. He was alone, nobody to help him up. Where _was_ everybody? He grabbed the javelin and tried to use it to clamber to his feet, but the butt of the weapon slid along the ground just as he was getting to his knees, and he fell back down. His forehead collided with the stone floor, and there was blackness._

Pyrrhus awoke in a cold sweat, panting heavily. As the fresh dream ran through his mind, he could think of only one thing to say.

"Who the hell was _that_?"

* * *

The infiltration group met up to begin the attack an hour later, and Pyrrhus was so distracted by the memory of his dream that he was very nearly late. He was the last to arrive, and the others looked vaguely concerned.

"You okay, Bubbles? Look like you've seen a ghost," Gaius said.

Pyrrhus scratched his forehead absent-mindedly. "Oh, no... I'm fine. No problem."

Chrom turned to Virion, who was there as well. "Okay, so you'll lead us through to the tunnel, and then show the rest of the group behind us the way to go. Got it?"

"Of course!" Virion replied cheerfully.

"Ha, you seem practically ecstatic!" Henry observed. "Looking forward to spilling blood?"

Virion shuddered. "No, but the prospect of reclaiming my fair castle and people... it is something I've dreamed of for years."

"Well, let's not count our chickens before they're hatched. Even if we do recapture Castle Virion tonight, you're not staying," Chrom explained. "You'll appoint a steward and add whatever forces Rosanne can spare to our own."

Virion's face switched from gleeful to downcast. "I know."

Henry, however, lit up. "Now that's the Virion I'm familiar with! Except it's usually Sully or Panne that gives him that face."

Gaius chuckled, but Frederick delivered a glare of such magnitude that it silenced any further chatter. "Everything ready?"

The group nodded, and everyone fell into step behind Virion as he led them to the secret entrance to Castle Virion. Meanwhile, Pyrrhus slipped again into anxious worry about his dream. He had had several before, and none had come true... yet. But they could not be products only of his own mind, because the first one he remembered had given him Chrom's name. What could possibly have happened to him to make him such a cruel person? He would never give an order like that today, no matter how desperate the situation. Well... no, that's not entirely true. If Ylisse were being overrun, and it was the only way to save his country, then maybe. Still, everything about that other version of him felt so very different, it was more like inhabiting a different person than dreaming of his own future.

Pyrrhus was pulled from his doldrums by Lucina, who addressed him in a whisper so as not to earn another Frederick glare. "Did you decide what to do?" she asked.

The tactician narrowed his eyes at her. "What?"

"You know, about the whole Frederick thing," she said.

_Oh, crap._ Pyrrhus had completely forgotten. So absorbed was he with his nightmare that he never gave thought to coming up with a counter-plan to keep Frederick alive.

Lucina seemed to notice his silence. "You couldn't think of anything?" she asked. She sounded disappointed in him, which made Pyrrhus's stomach twist. He couldn't believe how selfish he'd been. Frederick was about to _die_ and he hadn't come up with a solution, and why? Because he'd had a bad dream and got scared. It was shameful.

"I'm still working on it," he lied. At least he had a few minutes to come up with a solution before they got to the entrance.

"Well," announced Virion, coming to a stop, "We're here."

_Damn it_. "Already?" Pyrrhus asked.

The archer nodded. "Indeed." He knelt down to the ground in front of a massive old stump, then pushed against the top to reveal a hidden door. "This passage will take us through a tunnel beneath the city and directly into the throne room."

Frederick walked up to the stump. "Great. I'll go first, so everyone behind me, got it?"

"Wait!" Pyrrhus called out hurriedly, still no idea what he was going to do. All he knew was that, if Frederick were to go into that passage first, the man would be slain.

"What's wrong?" Chrom asked, looking back to the tactician.

"There's been a change of plan," Pyrrhus said. "Frederick isn't going first."

Frederick narrowed his eyes, but did not verbally object. "Very well, who will be?"

Pyrrhus drew a blank. He couldn't let Chrom go first, and Henry and Gaius were both pretty fragile, so anything that killed Frederick would kill them. "Umm..."

"I'm going first," Lucina interjected, pushing Pyrrhus aside with a frown as she stepped up to the stump.

Chrom and Frederick looked together at Pyrrhus for approval. Their trust in him was absolute, and it made Pyrrhus's stomach churn that he'd failed them. "Yeah," he agreed finally. "Lucina's going first."

As the blue-haired woman clambered over the side of the stump and down into the inky-black depths below, Pyrrhus had to admire her courage. To know that Frederick would die and to volunteer to take his place took no small amount of bravery. Pyrrhus stepped down behind her, and waited as Henry followed, then Gaius, Chrom, and finally Frederick. Chrom instructed Virion to head back to camp and await the signal before sending the next team. Lucina lit a torch to light the way as the group set off down the passage.

The space was claustrophobic, dark, dusty, hot, and completely unpleasant. Fortunately, the walls and floor were made of stone, not dirt, and the bracers for the tunnel seemed sturdy enough that Pyrrhus did not fear a cave-in. The journey took at least half an hour, which in the difficult passage meant they traveled maybe a mile, before finally leading to a spiraling staircase. They climbed hundreds of stairs, at this point in complete silence lest they alert any wary guards.

At long last, the stairs ended, revealing a hunk of stone masonry with a handle. Lucina turned around to make sure everyone was ready, put out the torch, and with a single mighty shove, pushed the stone aside and led the charge into the throne room.

Pyrrhus didn't really have time to examine his surroundings in any non-strategic sense, because the number of guards drove the bulk of his mental focus to survival. If he had, however, he'd have seen a throne room with a similar level of extravagance to the one in Ylisstol. Drapes of crimson velvet bearing a hawk, the sigil of the Virion name, in yellow, covered the large gothic windows. A throne of gilded iron sat upon a dais on the right side of the room (the door they'd emerged from was roughly in the middle, to the right side of the entrance). A carpet of a similar red color ran up the middle of the room, ending at the throne and at the room's entrance. A small doorway behind the throne suggested a path to more private quarters. Lighting was provided by a number of oil lamps in wall sconces, giving the room a quiet warm feeling despite the darkness outside.

But again, Pyrrhus didn't notice any of that. What he noticed were the dozen guards and the lack of apparent cover. Lucina dashed off, Falchion in hand, towards the nearest soldier, and Pyrrhus charged immediately after her. One guard, which Pyrrhus assumed to be the leader because of the extra marking on his chestplate, called out to the guard nearest the door and instructed him to sound the alarm. The messenger turned and was about to bolt when he was stopped by a blast of dark magic from Henry. Pyrrhus moved to engage the leader, who drew his sword in preparation.

The guard didn't last long, as it happened. He took one swing at Pyrrhus, who didn't even bother to block, and the blade bounced off his thick armor like rubber. Pyrrhus pulled back and plunged his lance forward the way Cordelia had been teaching him, and ran the man through. The guard fell to the ground, and Pyrrhus took hold of the lance and used his foot to pry it from the body. Meanwhile, Henry cackled gleefully as he hurled bolts of lightning and fire around. One flew right by Pyrrhus, just barely missing the tactician.

"Hey, Henry, watch it! There's people around here you want to keep _alive_."

Henry stifled his laughter. "Whoops, sorry, you got it boss."

Pyrrhus looked around. None of the guards who had made for the doors had lived; those that Henry hadn't killed bore arrow feathers signifying death at Gaius's hands. The others seemed to be handling their opponents without difficulty, except Lucina, who seemed to be surrounded. Pyrrhus swore, realizing that he should have stuck closer to her. Chrom was occupied with another enemy, so Pyrrhus bolted towards the princess.

The twin Falchion sank deep into an enemy's shoulder, felling him, but when Lucina tried to withdraw it, the blade got caught. Another guard seized the chance and drove his own blade into Lucina's side. She fell to the ground, letting the sword from her hand and trying to clutch at the wound instead. Pyrrhus wouldn't soon forget the shock in her eyes. But he wasn't about to let her die tonight. He unleashed a guttural roar as he charged towards the group of soldiers, lance held high even though he knew it was improper form. He had to present such an impressive threat that the only logical choice for the men was for all of them to fight him together, and prevent any one of them from finishing Lucina off.

Fortunately, his idea seemed to work. All three men turned to face the charging pile of steel and rage. One died immediately, as Pyrrhus's shield struck him in his unhelmed head. Another met his maker on lance tip. The third and last, terror in his eyes, turned and tried to flee, only to see an arrow suddenly protrude from his chest.

Gaius smiled darkly, lowering his bow. "Bulls-eye."

Pyrrhus, however, was too concerned with Lucina's condition. He knelt at her side, examining the wound as Chrom and Frederick dispatched their own foes and rushed over.

Lucina looked into Pyrrhus's eyes. "Looks like... Frederick lived," she said.

Pyrrhus reached into his backpack and grabbed a vulnerary. "Quiet now, drink this!" he insisted, holding the flask to her lips.

Chrom noticed Lucina's predicament and nearly knocked Pyrrhus aside as he fell to his knees before his daughter. "Lucina! Oh no... no no no..."

Frederick took hold of his lord's shoulder as tears began dripping down Chrom's face. "My daughter..." he said dazedly.

"Saved him..." Lucina muttered, clearly not entirely focused.

Pyrrhus grabbed her by the shirt. "Hey, you stay with me Lucina. I forbid you to die, you hear that? That's an order from your commanding officer."

Frederick cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Lord Chrom, but we must continue the attack before our presence is noticed.

Pyrrhus held a hand to his forehead. "Frederick's right. Chrom, you stay with Lucina and make sure she's fine." He stood up to address the others. "Frederick and Gaius, you two head for the gate, make sure it's secure, and dispatch any guards there. If word of our presence gets out, we can't let the city guards in or we'll be way too outnumbered to stay. Henry and I will find this Jonel and end him."

Just then, a bell rang thrice. "What was that?" Chrom asked.

Pyrrhus peered through one of the windows. "Too early for the dawn bell... damn it, that must be the alarm. Must've heard the fighting in an adjacent room."

Chrom nodded. "Go. I'll stay here."

Pyrrhus practically yanked Henry away as they made for the door behind the throne. He had to assume that Jonel would be in the duke's quarters at this time of night. They made their way through corridors, unable to afford more than a cursory glance in any given room, killing the few soldiers who seemed to have been roused in the area by the alarm.

They entered what looked like a dining room and found what they were looking for: a man telling giving orders to a group of guards. Pyrrhus practically smashed the door off its hinges as he entered the room, Henry behind him.

Pyrrhus leveled his lance at the man. "Jonel?" he asked.

The leader turned and noticed the intruders, sighed, and looked back at his guards. "What is it I pay you chaps for anyway?" He looked back to Pyrrhus. "That's right, and I presume you're those blighters the alarm's about?"

Pyrrhus nodded. "Now surrender and evacuate the town with all your men, or we'll be forced to kill you."

Jonel appeared to consider it for a moment. "No, I think not," he concluded. "I'd rather just kill you and keep on ruling. _Guards!"_

Pyrrhus signaled with his left hand. "Now's the time, Henry."

"You got it, boss!" Henry giggled furiously as he began waving his hands about.

Guards streamed into the room from several places, dozens of them. By the time they'd fully assembled, there were at least 20 of them. Jonel cleared his throat and spoke again. "Now then, you're outnumbered ten to one here. Surrender to me and you might survive to see the sun rise."

Pyrrhus had a response, but it didn't seem to be one that Jonel understood. "Wait for it..." the tactician said, holding out his hand.

"Wait for what?" Jonel asked angrily. Apparently he didn't like being ignored. "I say, I demand that you surrender!"

A curious humming, quiet at first but growing ever louder, slowly filled the air as Pyrrhus once again said, "Wait for iiiiit..."

"Wait for-"

Before Jonel could finish his question, a cacophonous crashing noise accompanied a massive cloud of black feathered creatures as Henry finished his ritual.

"Unleash the crows!" Pyrrhus shouted triumphantly, and the winged creatures swarmed the guards en masse, tearing at eyes and ears, distracting the entire crowd of guards and Jonel with their attack. "Okay, Henry, you know how I'm always telling you to be cautious and limit your spells so you don't catch allies in your crossfire on the battlefield?"

"Yeah," Henry replied sadly.

"For the next few minutes, you can just ignore all that."

Henry's giggles crescendoed into the terrifying cackle of a madman as Pyrrhus charged off into the melee, with hellfire raining down around him from the unhinged mage. Pyrrhus wound his way through the hysterical foes, glad that the crows were able to differentiate him from their targets. The way they flew right by him was distracting, yes, but it was infinitely preferred to them trying to claw out his eyes. It didn't take long for Pyrrhus and Henry's combined efforts to finish off the guards in the room, and even Jonel, distracted as he was, posed no real threat as Henry electrocuted him without pause.

In the aftermath of the battle, Henry dispersed his murder. Pyrrhus searched Jonel's body and found a suspicious-looking note, and decided to take it back to the group in the throne room to read. When they got there, Lucina was back on her feet, and Frederick and Gaius had also returned.

"The gatehouse has been secured, my lord," Frederick told Chrom. "Between the six of us, I believe we have eradicated the entirety of the guard. Castle Virion is ours."

Chrom breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Pyrrhus?"

Pyrrhus nodded. "Jonel is dead. We found a note on his corpse that may be of interest." He drew the folded parchment from his pouch and opened it. It read:

_Lord Chrom of the Ylissean League,_

_My name is Yen'fay of Chon'sin. If you're reading this, then you've taken the logical step of recapturing Rosanne in an attempt to cripple Valm. The Conqueror's men will doubtless siege the city and attempt to recapture the country when they learn of your attack. I have heard that you are a man of honor, and as such I believe that we would both prefer to settle this with as little bloodshed as possible. My army will be waiting on the border of Chon'sin and Gallo, on the bank of the Parun River. If you too wish to limit the loss of innocent lives, you will meet me in battle there._

_Yen'fay_

Pyrrhus folded up the letter after reading it aloud to the others. There were a few seconds of silence, punctuated only by Chrom saying "Huh."

Frederick broke the silence. "So, shall we make for the Parun River then?" Everyone looked to Pyrrhus.

The tactician sighed. "No, no we won't. Even if it's not a trap, I'd never allow my enemy so much freedom in picking the time and place of battle. Besides, Say'ri said that Yen'fay's forces number in the hundreds of thousands. We play fair, we'll lose. So I won't be playing fair."

"What's that mean?" Chrom asked.

Pyrrhus thought for a second. "Chon'sin is on the southern end of the continent. To supply an army of that size, they'll be relying on supply lines from the north. So we'll use the bulk of our army to distract Walhart's forces and keep them from retaking Rosanne or the harbor, and we'll use the Shepherds to harass the supply lines and disrupt communication."

"To what extent is time on our side?" Lucina asked. "With each passing day, Walhart's hold solidifies."

"That's true, to some extent," Pyrrhus replied. "But unless Virion's got another fifty thousand volunteer soldiers hidden away here, we simply don't have the manpower to fight a straight battle until the Resistance can unify. The best we can do is use guerrilla tactics and use the size of Walhart's armies against him."

"Okay," Chrom agreed. "Sounds good. Let's set the signal so the army can begin moving into the castle." He walked out of the room, Frederick in tow. Lucina walked over to one of the windows of the throne room, where the sun was just rising. She winced with each step, which made Pyrrhus feel guilty. He walked over to the princess and stood next to her as they watched the sunrise together.

"How are you feeling?" Pyrrhus asked tentatively.

"I'll be okay, I've had worse." She held her side in an attempt to assuage the pain. "But next time, please try and come up with a better plan when I tell you that someone's going to die. I'd rather not have to put up with this every time."

Pyrrhus nodded. "Don't worry, that was a fluke. I'll have a better plan next time." He already knew what that plan would be. The next time Lucina told him that someone was about to die, Pyrrhus resolved to take their place himself. None of his friends would die because of his mistakes if he could help it. And if misfortune struck and he was killed, then at least there'd be no way that version of himself he'd witnessed in his dream could ever come to pass.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, that took a lot longer than I was expecting. I was busy all weekend and away from a computer, which is when I do most of my writing, so that hurt me a lot. Other than that, I've just been slacking off, and hitting writer's block on the castle attack portion. I have a lot of trouble writing those sorts of scenes, which is why I wanted to include one.

So in this chapter, we finally start touching on the second theme of this story. Unfortunately, because I think it might give away future events in the story, I can't mention the theme yet. I'm just glad to have finally got to it. Not a whole lot of romance in this chapter, because the emphasis is more on moving the story along.

You see, there's a bit of a logistics problem that I haven't really discussed. A medieval army, marching on foot, typically traveled around ten miles per day. That's fine when you're marching across Germany or even across a province of China. When you're talking about walking an army around a piece of land that's the size of a _continent_, well, that's not exactly realistic (if we consider the continent of Valm to be the size of South America, it would take the Ylissean League army 475 days to march from tip to tip). Presumably, the ships could be used to travel along the coast and cut down on the travel time substantially, and I'll certainly be including that. However, the impractical distance makes out-of-story logistics (specifically, me keeping track of where everyone is relative to everyone else and how far away in terms of travel time they are from each other) both complicated and infuriating. So I'm going to do what most authors do, and insist that everyone travels at the speed of plot. I will try and keep numbers just on the boring side of interesting, because so many war stories neglect just how much of war is walking. I can't just remove huge swatches of time while the Shepherds travel, because it's an important part of Pyrrhus and Cordelia's relationship, and it would be poor pacing to have seven consecutive chapters of them dating, one chapter of battle, repeat _ad nauseum_. Yes, I'm aware this is a cop out. Sue me.

Not a whole lot else to say. Next chapter, Cordelia will give Pyrrhus a present, and the war never changes.


	12. Chapter 12

With the Ylissean League's capture of Castle Virion and the control of the city's surroundings, the Valmese soldiers occupying the city were forced to surrender, and departed with minimal fighting. Given the option, Pyrrhus would have preferred to allow the soldiers to escape alive anyway. Even if fear from his latest nightmare weren't fresh in his mind, killing such a relatively small number of soldiers would have had a negligible effect on Walhart's total forces. The soldiers would do far more damage to morale when word spread that the Ylissean League was merciful to those who surrendered peacefully. Unable to combat Walhart's great numbers as they were, their best chance of beating him was by whittling down numbers with desertion and making precision strikes to weaken Walhart's hold on the continent.

He shared this concept with the small council when they met the next evening. To that end, they agreed to keep the bulk of the army under the Khans, and send them north to engage with Walhart's forces near the Mila Tree while the Shepherds and a small contingent of Ylisseans moved south to snipe at Yen'fay's support structure. The Khans were instructed not to actually join in battle, but merely to distract Walhart's men from retaking the newly-captured territory. Virion had procured a thousand volunteers from Rosanne to join with the army, aside from the numbers that had been assigned the defense of the city itself. It was a step in the right direction, but not a large one. Pyrrhus could fight a battle when they were outnumbered two or three to one, but he didn't like the odds nearly as much when they were still twenty to one.

The following morning, the Shepherds departed from Castle Virion and began the trek south. Information from scouts pinpointed the rough location of Yen'fay's army, and it only took a bit of deduction to isolate the path that any supply convoys would have to take to get to him. Pyrrhus chose a spot to ambush them along one of the main thoroughfares of the province of Leda. It would take them two weeks to get there, and they'd presumably have to wait there for the next convoy.

Marching was very familiar, of course, and Pyrrhus settled back into the routine easily enough. He spent his evenings with Cordelia, mostly, and if not then with Chrom. Clever excuses and avoidance had kept them from a double date so far, but both Chrom and Pyrrhus feared that it would only be a matter of time before Sumia grew wise. And he still participated in the weekly poker game, even after he'd been ridiculed endlessly at the first one after word had gone round about him and Cordelia. Ever since the nightmare he'd had the night of the attack on Castle Virion, his waking mind had been haunted, but fortunately his dreams remained mundane.

One morning, midway through the journey, Pyrrhus ran into Chrom while heading to the pond near camp.

"Chrom!"

"Oh, hello Pyrrhus. Going for a shave then?" Chrom asked. "Seems like you've been shaving just about every day recently. I'll bet I know why," he added slyly.

Pyrrhus winced. "I'll bet you don't," he replied, with just a hint of somberness.

"Cordelia must like you better when you're smooth, huh?"

Pyrrhus inhaled, and then decided that it was easier not to explain. And technically Chrom was right. "Yeah, that's it," he admitted.

"No harm in always looking your best. In fact, you should pull out that suit again. Even _I_ couldn't miss how she was looking at you when you wore that. In fact, there were even a few _other_ ladies looking in your direction that night."

Pyrrhus sighed as he rinsed off his blade and started running it down his cheek. "Huh, as if I could handle that. I'm barely a one-woman man."

"Is that so?" Chrom asked, casually scraping his neck. "In that case, I suppose Lorraine is out of the picture?" he asked mockingly.

Pyrrhus shuddered involuntarily. _"Don't remind me!_ That woman was a special kind of crazy."

Chrom rinsed his blade. "I don't know, I saw you two together several times."

"Well yes, because she clung to my arm like a limpet at parties. She wasn't even interested in _me_, she just wanted to be connected to the man behind the man. _Intolerable_ woman! If you invite her to anything in the future, I demand that you warn me, so that I may be elsewhere."

"I think she'd find your arm to be a bit crowded, anyway," Chrom replied. "Although I admit, it would be amusing to see what Cordelia would do to her."

"I'm _pretty sure_ she'd just kill her," Pyrrhus postulated. "Anyway, what else is new?"

"Couple things," Chrom said. "First of all, have you noticed anything peculiar about Gaius?"

"Oh, gods yes." Pyrrhus replied instantly. "That man has never been anything _but_ 'peculiar.'"

Chrom sighed, cutting his chin hair. "I meant in the last few days."

Pyrrhus thought for a moment. "I don't think so, why?"

"I don't know," Chrom said. "Just seems different. You know him better than I do, perhaps if it's no trouble you wouldn't mind having a talk with him?"

"I often do, though seldom willingly," Pyrrhus replied. "Yeah, I'll see what's going on. What was the other thing?"

Chrom finished his shave, rinsed his blade one final time, and sheathed it. He looked around as if he were checking for other idle listeners. "Okay, but keep this to yourself, okay? Sumia and I aren't supposed to tell anyone."

Wow, this sounded good. If they weren't telling anyone, it must be something juicy. "What're you not supposed to tell?"

Chrom's voice dropped a few levels. "Well, uhh... Sumia's... late."

"I didn't realize she was meeting us here," Pyrrhus replied obliviously.

Chrom scratched his forehead nervously. "No, I mean... she's _late._"

Pyrrhus inhaled sharply when he realized what Chrom meant. "Oh! Oh oh! Well... that's great! Good for you!" He furrowed his eyebrows a bit and started counting back on his fingers. "Wait a minute-"

"Yeah, it was that night," Chrom interrupted. "But remember, you know _nothing!_" He said, pointing at Pyrrhus. "If you tell _anyone_, and it gets back to Sumia, I'm a dead man. So keep it to yourself. _Especially_ Cordelia. She's an awesome girlfriend, but I don't think she'd be able to _not_ freak out if she found out that Sumia..."

"I understand," Pyrrhus said placatingly. "You can count on me to keep it quiet." He slid the blade down his cheek and inhaled sharply as he nicked himself. "Bah!" he shouted. He had no towel or anything to wipe away the blood, so he settled for the bottom of his shirt. He pulled it up to his cheek and wiped carefully.

Chrom stared at him. "Hey, wait a minute!" he walked over and pulled at Pyrrhus's shirt.

Pyrrhus yanked his shirt away from the prince. "What're you doing?" he asked suspiciously.

"Raise your shirt up," Chrom said, raising one eyebrow. Pyrrhus, nervous at his friend's bizarre behavior, nevertheless obeyed, raising his shirt to reveal his chest to Chrom.

"Pyrrhus, have your muscles always been so... err... well-defined?"

Pyrrhus looked down over his shirt. "Oh, no. This is what happens when you spend ten hours a day lugging around sixty pounds of steel, on top of my regular training with the Shepherds." He lowered his shirt again.

Chrom whistled. "Pectorals like that, you could give Vaike a run for his money."

"So was there a reason for that comment?" Pyrrhus asked, still a little confused.

"No, it's just... kind of surprising. When we met, gods, even just a few months ago, you were kind of... weedy. I guess war suits you. Anyway, I've got to go, so I'll see you around." He waved goodbye as Pyrrhus rinsed his dagger again.

_War suits me._ Chrom probably intended it as a compliment, but it made Pyrrhus feel slightly ill.

* * *

Pyrrhus finished shaving, and was walking back to camp, when a cold chill ran down his neck. It could mean only one thing. He came to a stop.

"Tharja."

"Yes..." a somber voice whispered from behind him.

"I thought you'd given up on this business of stalking me," he said, with just a hint of anxiousness breaking through the last pair of words.

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

Pyrrhus cleared his throat nervously. "Uhh... b-because I'm courting Cordelia now. I'm very happy. I assumed you accepted that since you haven't been following me much recently." He didn't bother to turn around, because he knew that, if he did, she'd merely dodge away out of his sight.

"Just because you haven't _sensed_ me follow you doesn't mean I haven't," Tharja replied mockingly. "Perhaps you're only aware of me when I want you to be. Have you considered that?"

Pyrrhus winced. First and foremost, he had to protect Chrom. "Look, Tharja, the words I had with Chrom were private. It's a serious breach of my trust to eavesdrop on such matters, and both of us could get in serious trouble if that information were spread."

Tharja sighed. "Relax, I wasn't following you then. Watching you two shave is _boring._ There's much more interesting things to watch you do." At this comment, Pyrrhus shuddered involuntarily.

"Nevertheless, I cannot abide your continued stalking." Pyrrhus took a deep breath to try and steady his nerves. "And so I must insist that you cease this foolishness." Phrased like a command, but spoken like a question.

He felt a hand on the back of his neck. "Oh, don't worry, my love. I'll stop." She let out a creepy little laugh and Pyrrhus took a step forward to twist away from her touch. "No, I have a new plan."

Pyrrhus pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Oh, no."

"That plan is Gaius," she continued. "I'm going to perfect a love hex, one that will make a man adore me beyond imagining. Gaius will be my test subject as I perfect this hex, and when I do... I'm going to use it on you." Her hand touched his back again. "And then... you will be mine."

Eyes wide with terror, Pyrrhus mustered all his gumption to hide the fear in his voice. "Tharja, I insist that you do no such thing. It is a most-" he realized that her hand was gone and turned around. As he had suspected, she had already left. He growled darkly.

He found Gaius at breakfast, pouring honey into his oatmeal. He walked over to say hello, but Gaius spotted him and began talking immediately.

"Oh good, you're here! I was about to come looking for you," Gaius said.

"Well, that won't be necessary," Pyrrhus replied obviously. "How've you been? Feeling okay?"

Gaius cracked a wide smile. "As a matter of fact, things have been _great._ I know you'll want details, so let's sit down."

The pair sat across from each other at one of the nearby tables, and Gaius began. "Well, after weeks of careful maneuvering, I asked Tharja on a date last night, and she finally said yes!"

Pyrrhus winced sadly. "Listen, about that..."

Gaius hushed Pyrrhus. "Now, now, I know you don't like the idea of me seducing her, but you're with Cordelia now. You can't expect to have _both_ of them. You're not a player like I am."

It's not-" Pyrrhus tried to interrupt again, but Gaius once more cut him off.

"And I know you're afraid that she'll try and curse me into oblivion, but you don't need to worry about it! Curses don't land on me! That's just one of the reasons they call me _Gaius the Nimble_."

Pyrrhus finally had a chance to speak, but rather than explain the true reason for his concern, he couldn't hold himself back. "Nobody calls you _Gaius the Nimble_, you simpleton. The only epithet I've heard regarding you is 'that slimeball,' which is Maribelle's term of endearment. Now sure how you earned that one, but I'm sure I wouldn't be surprised."

"They call me _Gaius the Nimble_ in other parts," Gaius insisted. "Anyway, I saw how she reacted when I called her Sunshine. She digs me. So I'm going to make her dinner tonight, and _the seduction_ will continue."

"Gaius, there's something you should know-"

"I already know what you're going to say!" Gaius claimed. "'That I should use protection when I-"

Pyrrhus belted Gaius with an open hand across his face. "Gods, shut up! I _can't know_ that stuff! Just... let me speak!"

Gaius rubbed the red spot that was starting to form on his cheek. "Okay, Bubbles. Go ahead."

Pyrrhus breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay. Tharja is using you to try and get to me. She's going to use you as a test subject to perfect a love curse and then use it on me."

Gaius looked at him for several seconds. Finally he spoke. "I can't believe it," he muttered.

"I told you, she's pretty much pure cunning."

"You're actually _jealous!_" Gaius shouted. "You're jealous that I've finally wooed Tharja away from you! The grass is always greener, huh? Well, you know what? Her body is going to be _mine_ and there's _nothing_ you can do about it! I'll have her shouting my name in ecstasy by the end of the month!"

Pyrrhus, enraged by the insult to his character, suddenly had a moment of clarity. "You know what? You're right. I'm so very sorry, Gaius. I'm happy for you, and I hope you give it to her _real hard._" It took all his acting ability to utter those last two words without dripping them in sarcasm, but it seemed that Gaius, so often adept at knowing when Pyrrhus was lying, was too proud of himself to see it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go see if Libra can wipe a mental image from my head." He finished his oatmeal and was about to stand up when Gaius stopped him.

"Wait, Bubbles. Listen, I'm sorry. It's just nice to have made some progress. I've been laying this path for weeks now."

"I understand, Gaius," Pyrrhus replied, beginning to feel just a hint of guilt. "Just... please be careful."

Gaius smiled. "You got it, Bubbles. So, what's up with you and Cordelia?"

"Not much has changed, actually. We're taking it slow."

Gaius grimaced. "Oh, really? Tough break, hate it when the lady wants to drag it out."

Pyrrhus cleared his throat. "Actually, it was my idea. I don't have much experience dating, so I thought it would be a good idea."

Gaius chuckled heartily. "And now you're regretting that?"

"Oh, no, actually," Pyrrhus corrected. "I've quite enjoyed this extended courtship with my ladylove. But I've been trying to come up with something romantic to do, and I've been drawing a blank."

"Well, I don't have a whole lot of experience in romance pertaining to an _extended_ affair, but I do think it's more important that you're just spending time together than it is you be doing anything in particular. Maybe you're overthinking things?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Pyrrhus replied wryly. "I suppose you're right. Perhaps I'll just take Cordelia for a walk tonight."

"Did you ever use that line I gave you?" Gaius asked suddenly.

"No... why?"

"You should, tonight would be a good chance. Also, I'm going to use it at some point, so... heads up on that."

"I don't need your silly _lines,_ Gaius," Pyrrhus said indignantly. "I'm pretty sure Cordelia finds me attractive because I _don't_ use those sorts of cheesy remarks."

Gaius narrowed his eyes. "Really. Have you ever _heard _yourself when you're talking to her? I have _never_ heard two people that more accurately resembled an amateur stage production of two lovers."

"To hell with you, Gaius, we're _adorable_," Pyrrhus insisted.

* * *

On the day's march, Pyrrhus never saw Cordelia. He noticed that she was in the air most of the day, and he didn't notice where she landed. He didn't think much of it, as that sort of thing was not atypical. Cordelia spent a lot of time scouting and such, and every few days there'd be one where they didn't speak during the march. But it meant that he didn't get a chance to tell her of his plans that day, and he had drawn firewood duty for dinner and didn't get to eat until after she'd already finished. At last, however, after dinner, he managed to catch up with her.

"Hey Pyrrhus," she greeted him as he finished washing his plate.

The tactician stashed his dish and silverware in his pack before responding. "Ah, there you are. Haven't seen you all day!" He gave her a gentlemanly peck on the cheek. "I thought we'd go for a little walk tonight, what do you say?"

"Sounds fun!" she said. He clasped her hand and set out away from camp. They had set up in a forest, and they hadn't strayed far before the bustle of the other Shepherds had given way to the sounds of nature.

Pyrrhus knew that he had to avoid discussion of Sumia and Chrom, lest he inadvertently spill the beans about them. He decided to focus on something else. "There's something I've been meaning to warn you about, Cordelia."

She stopped walking. "What's that?"

Pyrrhus smiled. "It's no big deal. Just... if at any point, I ever try and break up with you because I claim that I'm in love with Tharja, knock me over the head and go get me some help, would you? I have a sinking feeling that, sooner or later, Tharja's going to place a love curse on me."

Cordelia chuckled. "Don't worry, if you ever try and break up with me for _any_ reason, I'll knock you over the head."

"Harsh," Pyrrhus replied. "But fair." They continued walking a bit. Eventually, talk passed to their days. "So what'd you do today?" Pyrrhus asked interestedly.

Cordelia's response drew his attention in its vagueness. "Oh, you know, just flying around, chatting with some Shepherds. No big deal."

Naturally, Pyrrhus had to pry. She was typically very verbose in describing her day, so something was definitely amiss. "Who'd you talk to?"

Cordelia's eyes wandered everywhere but into Pyrrhus's, so he knew that she wasn't being completely honest in her response. "Oh, you know, Cherche, and Lissa, and Lucina. Maybe a few others."

"Uh huh," Pyrrhus replied. "Anyone _else?"_

Cordelia continued to avoid his gaze. "Oh, and I guess I spoke with Sumia too. But that's it. Nothing interesting or eventful."

Pyrrhus raised a single eyebrow. "Wait a minute... do you _know?"_

They both stopped as Cordelia turned to face him in surprise. "Wait, are you saying that _you_ know?"

"I don't know anything!" Pyrrhus insisted, only incrementally aware of the self-deprecating nature of that statement.

"Good! Because I don't know anything either!" Cordelia replied, a little bit too loudly and nervously.

"Okay," Pyrrhus continued. "But if, perhaps, you _did_ know something... who would it be about?"

"You _do_ know something!" Cordelia insisted. "But then-"

"This is getting us nowhere," Pyrrhus interrupted. "How about this. On the count of three, we both say what it is that we know. Fair enough?"

"Agreed," Cordelia said, nodding.

"One," Pyrrhus began.

"Two," Cordelia supplied.

"Three!" Pyrrhus finished.

"Sumia might be pregnant oh my gods she told you!" They said in unison, except that Cordelia said 'he' rather than 'she.'

"I can't believe what a hypocrite Sumia is," Pyrrhus continued. "She told Chrom not to tell _anyone_ and then she goes right on and tells you!"

"She told _me_ that _Chrom_ said they shouldn't tell anyone!" Cordelia answered indignantly. "I can't _believe_ those two!"

"Did she tell you _when_ it happened?" Pyrrhus asked.

"No she didn't, but... oh gods," Cordelia's hands flew up to cover her face in embarrassment.

"It really bugs me that Chrom would think I could keep that big of a secret from you anyway," Pyrrhus mused.

"Why not?" Cordelia asked. "You're good with keeping secrets. You kept your feelings for me secret for what, a few months?"

"Yeah, but you've got your _feminine wiles_, and you can bring them to bear on me at will. How am I supposed to compete with that?"

"That's not entirely fair," Cordelia replied, rubbing her chin. "After all, it's not as though you're without masculine wiles." She clasped her hands behind her head and leaned back on them as they walked.

Pyrrhus didn't really know what to do with his own hands, so he settled for clasping them behind his back. "Wait, you think I have _wiles?"_ Maybe in battle he had something that could compare to wiles, or in strategy. But the idea that he had the capacity to be wily _in her direction_ was a new concept. Any time they talked he felt like he was tripping over himself or being incredibly obtuse.

"Of course you do!" Cordelia insisted. "Like that way you smile and your eyes get a sparkle when you've got some really good idea. Or the way you growl a little when you're angry but not _really_ angry?"

Pyrrhus gently pulled her close to him and wrapped his arm around her, holding her by the far shoulder. "Every day you find some _new_ way to be fascinating to me," he remarked with a hint of a chuckle.

"Stuff like that," Cordelia replied, pointing at him. "You're so damn _dorky_ sometimes."

Now Pyrrhus was really confused. "And this is a... _desirable_ trait in a man?"

She put her own arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Yes," she said slowly. "When it's done correctly."

"Then it's fortunate I appear to have some natural skill," Pyrrhus replied, and they continued walking. "Still, I'm quite happy for them. I don't know how I'm going to handle pregnant Sumia on the battlefield, though. I can't possibly justify putting her into any risk at all."

"True," Cordelia replied. "At least it's not a sure thing yet. If it turns out to just be a false alarm, there mightn't be anything to worry about."

"You're right, I'm getting ahead of myself," Pyrrhus agreed. "If it's true, though, I guess I could just post her to scouting for the duration of the year's campaign. Minimal risk there."

"I doubt that Chrom would object," Cordelia reasoned, "but I won't envy you having to tell Sumia she can't fight."

Pyrrhus blanched. "Maybe I'll let _you_ do that," he suggested.

"Not a chance," she replied casually.

Eventually, the pair came upon another clearing similar to the one where they'd set up camp. The sky was perfectly clear, and the moon was nearly full, so they found a comfortable patch of grass and laid down to look at the stars together.

"Look there, it's Alm's Blade!" she pointed at a straight line of four stars. "It points directly to the North Star, right... there." She drew a path with her finger to a single star, sitting rather lonely in the northern end of the sky.

Pyrrhus pointed at another grouping of stars. "That one there, it's called... Chrom's Crown."

Cordelia looked where he was pointing. "No, that's not anything. Well, that one star is the tip of the Roaring Panther's tail."

Pyrrhus shook his head. "Nope, see, there's the tips of the crown, and there's the loop beneath."

Cordelia turned to look at him. "How come I've never heard of... wait, _Chrom's Crown_? You're teasing me!" she shoved him playfully.

"Well, I don't recall ever learning the constellations," Pyrrhus explained. "So I figured I'd make up a few to play along."

They laid there together, watching the stars, Cordelia's head on his shoulder, and Pyrrhus felt the minutes go slipping by. He wanted to say something romantic, but nothing came to mind. As the silence dragged on, the pressure built, and he kept drawing a blank.

_What was that line that Gaius had suggested?_ He suddenly found himself wondering. It took him a few seconds, but it finally came to his mind.

"I'm so lucky I found you," he whispered. She pushed herself up from his arm and looked him in the eye. Then she leaned down and kissed him.

_Damn you, Gaius!_ Pyrrhus shouted in his head as he kissed her back. He wrapped his arms around her waist and gently rolled them both over.

* * *

A little while later, they wandered back into camp, arm in arm. They still hadn't gone any farther, but Pyrrhus was just fine with that. He would have been infuriated if Gaius's advice had been responsible for _that_ step in their relationship. He wanted her, but he wanted her to want _him_ too, the real him. Fortunately, he reasoned, she seemed to be just fine with the real him.

They stopped outside Pyrrhus's tent to bring the date to an official close. "What a lovely evening," Cordelia began.

"I know," Pyrrhus agreed, still unsure exactly what to say. "Very pleasant."

"Listen," Cordelia said. "There's something... I've been meaning to give you. A present."

"Really?" Pyrrhus replied. "But I didn't get you anything."

"Oh, that's all right," Cordelia said comfortingly. "It's not that big of a deal, I just had some spare time."

"Okay, if you're sure. Hmm... is it something to eat?" he asked. Dinner had been several hours ago, and he felt like he had a bit of room in his stomach.

"No, but, before you keep guessing, let me just go get it, okay?"

"Fine." He let Cordelia go, and she hurried off in the direction of her tent. Pyrrhus took the chance to look around now that Cordelia's eyes weren't there to distract him. Most of the camp had gone to sleep already. As he surveyed the little town of tents, he felt a nudge on his shoulder, and turned around to see Gaius there.

"Hey, Bubbles, did the walk go over well?" he asked curiously.

Pyrrhus nodded. "As a matter of fact, it did." He remembered something. "Wait a minute, I thought you were finally getting to a date with Tharja tonight. What happened to that?"

"It's _still happening_," Gaius said, smirking. "She went to use the bathroom, and I'm about to use _the moves_. Let's just say that Gaius the Nimble is going to be Gaius _the Lucky _tonight."

"Ugh," Pyrrhus replied, failing to suppress his disgust. "Look, get out of here, Cordelia's coming back in a second."

Gaius smiled and gave Pyrrhus a broad wink. "I see... so I won't be the only one. Good luck, Bubbles." And then he was gone, back to his own tent, not far from Pyrrhus's.

"I am fairly certain she's going to kill him," Pyrrhus told nobody in particular. He spent the rest of the time waiting for Cordelia to return trying to scrub the mental image of Gaius and Tharja from his mind.

When she did return, a minute or so later, she had both her hands behind her back. She walked right up to him, being careful not to let him see behind her. She took a deep breath and started. "This might not be the best time, since it's kind of dark out and you won't be able to see it that well..."

Pyrrhus smiled. "Fortunately, I still know a _bit_ of magic." He held out his right hand and a flame appeared, illuminating the two of them. She smiled so brightly, and Pyrrhus almost fell in love with her all over again at that look. It made him realize something. He could make Cordelia, a woman who was as close to perfect as the gods made them, this happy. He could get frustrated or angry or even enraged, but he was never cruel. Maybe he didn't have it in him to be that man he'd dreamed he was. Perhaps it was just that: a dream.

"Great! Anyway, well, here!" Without any additional fanfare, she held out what she'd been holding for Pyrrhus to see, and so shocked was he by it that the flame in his hand sputtered out. It was a handmade javelin, with beautiful decorative carvings and a simple curved edge. It wasn't _exactly_ the same as the one in his dream only because there was no gold inlay in the carvings, but in every other respect it was perfectly identical.

Pyrrhus took a step back. "Oh, gods..." It was true. His dream was true. He couldn't have known about this beforehand. He had seen the future, and he really became that awful monster who murdered innocents and fell unconscious, crippled and alone, on the floor of the main hall of Ylisstol.

Cordelia's face fell. "You don't like it?" she asked, equal amounts of surprise and heartbreak in her voice.

Pyrrhus was trying very hard not to burst into tears from the pure emotional strain, but he knew there was something more important to him than his own feelings. For her sake, he forced himself to speak. "Oh, no, I love it!" he insisted, twisting his mouth into a smile. "I'm just amazed at your skill... and I feel guilty that you would make me something to beautiful and I didn't get _you_ anything."

"Oh, good," she said with relief. "I just wanted to give you something so that, even if I'm not by your side in battle, some part of me will be there to protect you." She took a breath, as if she was mustering herself. "Because there is no place I'd rather be than at your side, fighting the enemies of Ylisse for as long as there are enemies before us."

He took the javelin in his hand, felt its heft. It was heavier than most, like the javelins and lances he'd begun using since she showed him First Moenic. And its feel was still a perfect match to the one in his dream. Without another word, he pulled her into an embrace, holding her more tightly than ever before, as if hoping that holding her might banish the evils in his mind. But they remained in his mind, and eventually he released her.

"I love-" he began but cut himself off. He had to look away, and then he started again. "I love it." It wasn't what he really wanted to say, but he couldn't right now. Just as he didn't want him and Cordelia to consummate their relationship based upon a line Gaius had given him, he didn't want to tell Cordelia that he loved her in the heat of the moment, when she might construe it as an exaggeration. He would tell her when she knew he was of sound mind, so that she would not doubt its veracity.

Cordelia smiled again, and Pyrrhus noticed a sparkling of her eyes in the moonlight that suggested the hint of tears. "I'm glad," she said. "Well, goodnight, Pyrrhus."

"Goodnight, Cordelia," he replied, kissing her gently. She walked away, and his eyes returned to the javelin. The last few minutes had been such an intense ride, all he wanted to do was collapse into bed and hope for some dreamless sleep. He was about to enter his tent when he suddenly heard a noise from Gaius's tent.

_"What?"_ It was equal parts indignant screech, furious shout, and terrible swear. And it was Tharja's voice.

A moment later, a whirling noise that Pyrrhus recognized as powerful wind magic blew something large and heavy out of the tent... and right into his own, knocking the canvas structure down with several _cracks_ that must have been the support beams and his meager furniture.

Gaius stood up from the ruins of Pyrrhus's tent, revealing himself to have been the projectile. "Ow! Geez, Sunshine, it was just a joke!" He climbed to his feet before he turned to Pyrrhus and realized what must have broken his fall. "Oh... oh no. Bubbles, I'm sorry."

Pyrrhus turned his gaze down, to the shattered ruins of the majority of his possessions, and then back, furious and growling, to the man responsible. Then, wincing, back to his destroyed tent.

* * *

**A/N:** Chapter 12 done! I'm noting a trend with the reviews I get for this story, that I tend to get many more when I focus on the romance plot over the adjusted game plot. I suppose I know what the audience likes.

This chapter is almost a bunch of little vignettes for most of the main players in this story. This also includes what I believe to be the first appearance of Tharja. Gaius, in this story, functions as both the comic relief and as a foil for Pyrrhus and his relationship. I really do enjoy writing him as the little devil on Pyrrhus's shoulder, offering the "easy way" while Chrom and his relationship with Sumia, awkward as it is for both Pyrrhus and Cordelia, functions as the "angel." Sumia's preggers because obviously Cynthia had to happen _sometime_ and this way I could link it in with the Dragon's Hoard hijinks. Pyrrhus and Cordelia continue to take it slow, but they're getting more serious by the day. Pyrrhus gets the javelin from his dream as a gift from Cordelia, because I love piling on the emotional drama. And Gaius crushes Pyrrhus's tent as the final karmic reward for not trying harder to stop Gaius from seducing Tharja.

Cordelia's line, the one about standing with Pyrrhus right before he hugs her, is an homage to a line from a game that served as part of my inspiration for themes in this story. The game is Knights of the Old Republic 2: The Sith Lords, and although a bevy of serious flaws prevent me from openly recommending the game to anyone (I believe it's available on Steam) I will say that the story is phenomenal. As a matter of fact there's only one other game (besides Awakening, of course) that inspired me _more_ in this story, but I'm not comfortable disclosing that one yet. But I called this story "The Power of Love" for a _bunch_ of reasons.

One reviewer "someguy" suggested that I offer Cordelia's viewpoint in this story. I'm afraid that that isn't going to happen. A particular phrase jumps to mind: art from adversity, or necessity is the mother of invention. I've found that limiting my viewpoint (literally, as the viewpoint of this story is third person _limited_) provides a set of restrictions on the story that force me to improvise and come up with ways to show what I need to show. Too many stories I've read on this website suffer from jumping between characters willy-nilly, and would vastly improve if the author would stick to one narrator and work within those confines. Furthermore, there's a good bit of dramatic irony going on that could also suffer if I changed viewpoints.

Next chapter, the Shepherds will arrive at the ambush point in Leda, and a bunch of spoilery things will happen!


	13. Chapter 13

_Pyrrhus stood, Chrom at his side, with the rest of the Shepherds in the Ylisstol graveyard. Freshly moved earth had been piled next to a casket resting inside a new grave. The tombstone was elaborate, adorned with a pair of pegasus wings pointing skyward. Pyrrhus stepped forward and dropped a single flower onto the casket, then stood back. Two small girls stepped forward and did likewise._

_Libra was giving the speech, the only person there dressed in white. "And so we commit her body to the ground, while her soul ascends to the temple of Naga for eternal judgment. As we pray to Naga's divinity, let us remember that the deceased is survived by her husband and two daughters. I ask that you pray also for peace to find them in this trying time."_

_Libra paused to clear his throat; he was evidently getting choked up. "Would anyone care to speak?"_

* * *

In the light of the early morning, Pyrrhus rapped on Lucina's tent. He was barely able to stop himself from entering without an invitation, politeness be damned. "Lucina!" He hissed.

The princess poked her head out from the tent flaps. It was evident that he had awakened her, as her hair was uncharacteristically messy and she had those crusty bits in her eyes. "Gods, it's early. What's the matter?" she asked.

"We need to talk. _Right_ now," Pyrrhus insisted.

Her eyes widened when she realized who it was, and she pulled her head back into the tent immediately. "Just a second," she called.

Pyrrhus tapped his foot distractedly as he waited to be let in. A minute or so later, Lucina threw open the tent flap. "Come in," she offered. Her hair was straightened a bit and her face was now wet; Pyrrhus deduced that she must have splashed it to wake up.

The tactician entered the tent. It was about the same size as his own, with similar furnishings. He sat down on the chair there and she sat upon her cot.

He eyed her angrily. Such was his mixture of disappointment, fear, and rage that he scarcely knew where to begin. Later, he would recognize that he chose a poor opening line.

"You lied to me," he said accusingly.

This seemed to incense Lucina, whose ire rose in response. "How dare you accuse me of lying!"

Pyrrhus clarified. "Months ago, the first night we spoke in the strategy tent. You told me that you never knew me in the future because I was dead, but that's not true, is it?"

Lucina's eyes widened, and she held a hand over her mouth in surprise. "Oh yes... that. But how do you have any idea?"

Pyrrhus didn't have a good answer for that question. He and Chrom had both agreed that it would be a poor decision to tell Lucina of his propensity for odd dreams, and if they were truly prophetic, so much more. "Never mind that," he replied dismissively. "Why did you lie about it?"

Lucina shook her head. "But it wasn't a lie! I didn't recognize you."

"You didn't recognize me?" he asked. "And how many men in knight's armor frequent Chrom's company and discuss tactics with him in this future of yours?"

Lucina groaned in annoyance. "Listen to yourself! How would I have known any of that? I was an infant! I didn't realize until later that you were actually the same man as one I'd known as a child. I couldn't pronounce Pyrrhus, so I called you Pierce. And you were... a different man, then."

"Different how?" He essentially knew the answer, but he had to be sure.

"You... err... 'Pierce' was very cold, dispassionate. There were..." she paused for several seconds, as though editing herself, "very few... people he really cared about. He was obsessed with the war, and winning without concern for casualties. That was why, after the battle on the sea, I was nervous and approached you to see if you were becoming that man somehow." Pyrrhus thought back to his conversation with Lucina in the ship's galley, when she'd been concerned about his planned attack on the harbor. She took a deep breath. "You're the same man on the outside, but inside, you're a different person entirely. Pierce was never mean to me or anything, but I was a little scared of him, because almost _everyone_ but Chrom was scared of him. There's not a single Shepherd who really fears you, not like what five-year-old me could feel instinctively from Pierce's subordinates."

Subordinates? What a cold phrase to use to refer to one of the Shepherds. Then again, the man who'd called Lon'Qu a 'Feroxi Hound' probably wouldn't consider the other Shepherds his equals either. "Then you don't know how or when I changed?" he asked tentatively.

Lucina shook her head. "No. I have no real memory of the man who sits before me, but then I have no memory of anything while I was that young."

Pyrrhus sighed. So much for this plan. If he was going to stop himself from turning into this monster that Lucina called Pierce, he'd have to come up with a different idea. Still...

"Lucina, I don't want to be him. I know you have a lot to worry about, but if you ever happen to recall something, even if it's just a thought, please... tell me."

Lucina's eyes flickered around the tent, looking everywhere but at him. "I must concern myself with not causing undue alterations to the future. However, having known both Pierce and Pyrrhus, I must say that I vastly prefer the latter. If it can be done, I will do what I can to keep you from becoming that man."

Pyrrhus leaned back. It wasn't a guarantee or even a promise of aid, but it was something. It also didn't mean he was going to stop there. He just had to come up with some new avenue of attack.

"Thank you, Lucina," he said, standing up and preparing to leave. Lucina cleared her throat conspicuously, and Pyrrhus turned back around. "Was there something else?"

"I can't be certain of this, mind you," she started. "And I can't explain to you _how_ I would know, but I have reason to suspect that this change, if it occurs suddenly and not over time, does not come to pass for several years." She rolled her eyes back into her head and twiddled her fingers, apparently counting. "At least three, I think."

Three years? Well, it would have to do. At least that meant he had time. "Thank you," he repeated. "That's very helpful." He left.

* * *

The next week saw them crossing from the province of Rosanne into Leda, a land of lush forests that provided a great deal of lumber to the continent. The weather turned abysmal during the journey and the forests were a welcome bit of relief from the constant pounding rain. Spirits amongst the Shepherds plummeted to an all-time low, months from home, fighting a war nobody wanted. Several of them also seemed annoyed that their strategist was instructing them to harass the enemy rather than engage in a straight-up fight. Nobody on the small council had the inclination to disseminate information regarding the enemy's true numbers to the group, lest they sow the fear of utter defeat and dampen morale further.

En route to their position, the group staged several attacks on lumber camps in the area; it was nothing massive, but Pyrrhus knew that every little bit helped. Lumber was of vital use in the construction of both ships and siege weapons, two things the Valmese desperately needed to fight back against Pyrrhus's strategy. It would be impossible to completely deny them access to lumber, but by sabotaging isolated camps, they would limit the continent's production and drive up prices. Dismantling a military machine on a continental scale could only be a death by a thousand cuts.

They reached the main thoroughfare in Leda on the fifth day after entering the province, known as the Thalian Way. It was one of the most well-constructed and maintained roads that Pyrrhus had ever seen, wide and busy as well. Leda was sort of like a gateway to the southern end of the continent, and a poorly-positioned mountain range funneled most of the cross-continental traffic to the Thalian Way. The Shepherds, of course, could not allow themselves to be spotted by the frequent travelers, lest any of them report their location to Valm. Instead, they traipsed through the woods parallel to the road, seeking an ideal ambush point for one of the massive supply convoys that would be necessary to keep Yen'fay's troops in Chon'sin.

With Cordelia and Sumia scouting overhead, they found the best location that they could hope for. It was a long stretch of straight road with blind corners at each end. The straightaway was long enough that the entire convoy would be on at once, and the corners would prevent too much unnecessary attention. They made camp in the woods to the east of the road and Pyrrhus laid out the plan of capture. He would be stationed at the southern end of the ambush, to halt the lead wagon and trigger the ambush. A few others would join him, including Nowi, in case the convoy attempted to blow past him: he doubted that there was much that the sight of a full-size dragon _wouldn't_ stop. The Shepherds would be stationed along the road, waiting for the command to capture the convoy. The attachment of Ylissean League soldiers would aid in the seizure of goods. Once the wagons were captured, they would pilot the convoy back north to the rest of the League forces, where they would stay while the Shepherds continued their harassment of the enemy in the south.

It was a delicate plan, to say the least. The road was so busy that there would be no way that the attack would remain a secret after the fact. If the caravan were well-guarded, the enemy soldiers would need to be dispatched immediately lest any happen to sound an alarm to bring more rapid aid. Still, Pyrrhus reasoned that if things went the worst, they could always burn the supplies. It would be an awful shame, but at least Valm wouldn't have them.

It was Sumia who spotted the caravan heading south during her routine scouting, on the second day after their arrival at the ambush point. A visit to Libra had confirmed that Sumia was indeed pregnant, and she had reluctantly conceded that she should be removed from the front lines. Chrom had wanted her away from battle completely, but she outright refused, so Pyrrhus had offered his compromise of appointing her to permanent scouting duty for the duration of the season. When she lighted before Chrom and Pyrrhus, discussing mundane training matters, and told them of what she'd seen, they mobilized the Shepherds and set the attack.

And that was how Pyrrhus found himself crouching in the brush by the side of the road, desperately hoping that the brilliant shine of his polished armor was sufficiently obscured.

"And then I saw a spider, and I got scared for a minute, but then I remembered that spiders are as scared of me as I am of them, especially since I was a dragon at the time, and then I wasn't as afraid any more," Nowi rambled incessantly, describing her trip through the forest that morning. Pyrrhus had only a modicum of tolerance for her interminable chatter, but Cordelia, crouched next to him with Diomedes a bit farther back in the woods, seemed to take some perverse pleasure in provoking her.

"Really?" She asked Nowi. "How interesting! What happened after that?" She grinned evilly, watching the frown on Pyrrhus's face grow as Nowi then started talking about the berries she'd found.

"As a matter of fact..." she rustled in her pocket for a few seconds. "I think they were limberries, so I plucked some of them." She presented a handful of small, bright pink berries to the pair. "I hear the juice of the limberry is real good for you, and it's supposed to be delicious too." She took one in her hand and examined it closely. "Either that, or they're pill berries, which cause diarrhea and paralysis. I'm not very familiar with Valm fruit." She was about to put the berry into her mouth when Pyrrhus swatted it away. "Hey!" she shouted, then remembered the situation and dropped her voice to just above a whisper. "What's the big idea?"

Pyrrhus growled. "You are _not_ getting _paralyzed_ on my watch!" he hissed. "I don't care how good for you they might be!" He'd have given quite a bit for her mouth to be paralyzed and spare him the headache, but now was not the time to encourage Nowi to consume strange berries.

Nowi moaned angrily, but dropped the berries on the ground. "Fine! But you owe me some limberries the next time we pass a market!"

Pyrrhus waited until she'd turned her head away and mimed strangling her, but stopped when he heard Cordelia stifle a giggle. "What?" He asked.

"Nothing," she said aloofly. "You're going to be a _great_ parent," she added.

"Let's just hope that none of our kids are that careless," he replied thoughtlessly. Realizing what he'd just said, he cleared his throat and corrected himself. "Err, you know... my kids. Or your kids, if I have to babysit or anything. So together that would be _our kids_, jointly."

She stared at him blankly for a few seconds. "Your capacity to generate awkwardness out of thin air is... fascinating." She said finally.

"Thank you," Pyrrhus replied politely.

"Sorry to interrupt," Nowi began, "but is that the convoy there?"

Pyrrhus looked to see the first of many wagons, each pulled by a pair of horses, making its way down the road towards them. He reached for his lance and nodded to Cordelia, all business. "Give the signal, then get to Diomedes."

Cordelia cupped her hands around her mouth and gave a bird call. Pyrrhus didn't know any himself, and couldn't have guessed at which Cordelia was using, but it was the one the Shepherds had agreed upon as a ready signal. Cordelia backed carefully into the woods, and Pyrrhus stood up, feeling pins and needles in his legs as blood flow returned to them. Casually, he marched from the tree cover, with a pace to intercept the lead wagon.

He twirled his lance a bit as he waved down the wagon, which came to a halt before him. A man, clearly a civilian, sat at the helm, and he looked down at Pyrrhus dismissively. The tactician craned his neck a bit and saw a few soldiers guarding the convoy, one of which had noticed the halt and was hurrying over.

The man on the wagon snorted and addressed Pyrrhus. "Out of the way, little soldier, we've got a schedule to keep here!"

"Yeah, about that..." Pyrrhus drew out a bit, buying time to be certain that everyone was in place. "I'm going to need you to step down from the wagon and surrender."

The man looked at him and burst into laughter. "Ahaha! You some sort of bandit, little man? You have no idea what you're doing."

Pyrrhus shook his head. "I'm not a bandit, per se. But I am going to need you and your fellow caravaneers to hand over all your goods. I know that makes me _sound_ like a bandit, but there's a difference."

The man continued laughing. He leaned down to get a little closer to Pyrrhus. He was an older gentleman, probably in his forties or so. "These supplies are for Yen'fay's army. The convoy's got more guards than any bandits can handle. Even if, by some miracle, you did defeat them, you'll have Yen'fay himself chasing you to the Gates of Hell. Back away now."

The guard that had noticed Pyrrhus finally approached. "What's going on, what's the holdup?" he asked angrily.

Pyrrhus grinned. "Oh, no trouble, just a bit of an ambush."

"Well okay then, let's move it- wait, what?" Before the guard knew what was happening, Pyrrhus had closed the distance between them and knocked him unconscious with a fist to the head.

"Now then," Pyrrhus continued, turning back to face the man on the wagon. "I don't believe we've been introduced. My name is Sir Pyrrhus of the Shepherds, and on behalf of the Ylissean League, I am confiscating these goods." He held his lance at the man's throat. "Do you have any objections?" The man shook his head vigorously, and Pyrrhus gave a whistle. On cue, the combined Ylissean forces broke from the forest and converged on the stopped wagons, dispensing the guards in seconds.

* * *

In the aftermath of the battle, Pyrrhus had all the wagons brought into the forest. It was necessary to limit the exposure of the capture by as much as possible, but even so Pyrrhus figured they couldn't have more than a week before Yen'fay would figure them out and they'd have to move on.

Later that afternoon, Pyrrhus went looking for Cordelia and found her taking charge of the inventory process. She walked among the wagons, pen and paper in hand, taking notes on what she found and giving orders to the soldiers who had been appointed to help sort through everything.

"There you are!" He said, walking over. He'd shed his knightly armor in favor of his casual outfit, and as a result felt rather more spry. He twisted around to make sure nobody was looking before placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

"Hey Pyrrhus," she responded distractedly. "What's going on?"

"Just checking up on you, wondering if you'd like to meet for dinner later?"

She looked up from her paper and smiled. "I'd love to, but I can't. Got to make sure this gets taken care of." She pointed her thumb at the page. "Have to be certain that everything's shipshape."

A soldier approached then and called to Cordelia. "'Scuse me, miss. Two hundred pounds of salted pork in four barrels?"

Cordelia wrote down the numbers and responded. "Okay then... Put them in wagon fifteen, should be room left in that one."

Pyrrhus sighed as the soldier walked away. "This is going to take _days_, you know. You can't possibly get this done just tonight. We should celebrate a victory like this."

Cordelia shook her head. "I know, and that sounds appealing, but I really should get a good start on this. Like you said, it's going to take days."

"So just so I'm clear... you're saying no to dinner."

"I'm afraid so," she agreed, peering into one of the adjacent wagons and examining its contents. She looked back at him with a frown. "I'm sorry, Pyrrhus, I really would like to spend time with you, but someone's got to take care of this."

Pyrrhus thought for a moment. "I could always put Miriel on it," he suggested.

"She could probably do the job," Cordelia mused. "But I'd feel awful pawning off such a huge task to her."

"And who pawned it off on you?" Pyrrhus probed. "So I know who to punish for ruining my evening."

"Oh, nobody in particular."

Pyrrhus furrowed his eyebrows. Something was staring him in the face and he couldn't quite believe it. "Are you... trying to politely brush me off? If you didn't want to have dinner with me tonight, that's fine, you could just say that."

Cordelia's eyes widened in fear. "Oh, no! Of course not!" She paused a moment. "Oh, and of _course_ you'd see it that way, the distracted way I'm talking, my focus on this task, ugh, it's no wonder. No, Pyrrhus, I really _would_ love to have dinner with you. I'll tell you what, how about tomorrow? I'll try to get enough ahead that I can take the evening off."

Pyrrhus sighed. "It's fine. I worry about you sometimes, Cordelia. You work harder than any other Shepherd."

"It's sweet of you to worry, Pyrrhus," she said, sneaking another quick kiss. "But I enjoy this sort of thing. I like to feel useful."

"I know you do," Pyrrhus replied in resignation. "Okay then, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Fifty-three flasks of Valmese wine!" Another soldier called out.

Cordelia jotted it down. "Put them in wagon twenty!" She shouted in response.

Another soldier approached. "Sir Pyrrhus!"

"What's that?" the tactician asked, turning to the man. He was a Feroxi man, Pyrrhus could tell by the dark tan and the slight accent. He'd also gotten Pyrrhus's attention with more of a shout than a question, very Feroxi. He had short blonde hair and a bit of a squint.

"We found the convoy manifest, sir. Contains a detailed list of the supplies to be sent and a description of the unit." He handed Pyrrhus a stack of papers.

He gave the stack a cursory look. "Hmm... interesting. Transfer orders for all the men guarding the convoy to be attached to Yen'fay's command afterward." He looked a bit further. "Tell me, did we get an accounting of all the captured and slain in the ambush?"

The soldier shook his head, but Cordelia spoke up. "Ahem, actually, we did. There were forty-seven men guarding the convoy. Four were slain, the rest were captured."

Pyrrhus looked once more at the papers. "You're certain it was forty-seven?"

"I did the count twice," Cordelia confirmed.

"Then we have a problem. This says there were forty-eight." He smacked the papers with his other hand. "If someone escaped the ambush, then we have less time than we thought."

* * *

The next morning, Pyrrhus sat down with a bowl of oatmeal in the mess tent to eat when Chrom joined him. "Morning," the prince said tiredly.

Pyrrhus swallowed a spoonful of the porridge. "Hey, how are you?"

"I'm okay. Yourself?" He bit into an apple.

"Pretty fair. Did you tell the camp about the schedule change?" Pyrrhus asked.

"Yeah, everyone knows we leave in three days. Can't believe we missed one of the guards."

"It's possible we didn't," Pyrrhus thought aloud. "Could be a mistake on the manifest or a desertion or something else, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Of course," agreed Chrom. "Now I just need to find someone to take care of organizing all the supplies we... liberated."

Pyrrhus felt his mood elevate. "I thought Cordelia was taking care of that." Had she taken the day off, perhaps? They could spend the entire day together!

Chrom's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, no! Cordelia's sick, Pyrrhus. I thought you'd heard."

That bit of elation plummeted into sadness and fear. "She's sick?" Pyrrhus resisted the temptation to grab the man's shirt and shake him. "What's wrong? Is it serious?"

"It's nothing that bad," Chrom mollified the panicked tactician. "I sent Lissa to check her out, and she says it's just a cold or something." He looked as if he had more to say, but Pyrrhus left before he could.

Fifteen minutes later, a heavily-laden Pyrrhus knocked on Cordelia's tent flap. A feeble "Come in" greeted him, and he pushed his way in.

"Agh!" Cordelia shouted, pulling her blanket over her head. "Pyrrhus, stay back!"

A startled Pyrrhus dropped the stuff in his hands and put up his fists. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm sick!" she shouted hoarsely. "I haven't washed my face or anything!"

Pyrrhus let his hands drop. "Your point?"

Refusing to lower the blanket, she replied, "I don't want you to see me like this!"

Pyrrhus groaned and walked over to the chair next to the bed. "Oh, come on. You've seen me shirtless, unconscious, bleeding, and probably a few other unpleasant ways. Look, I'm here to nurse you back to health." He sat down in the chair.

That got her to lower the blanket. "You're here to nurse me?" She tried to laugh, but it involuntarily switched to a cough partway through.

"I can't promise I'll be much help," Pyrrhus said self-deprecatingly. "But what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't help my sick girlfriend?"

"I must look awful," she moaned.

Pyrrhus responded with a bright smile. "You look absolutely beautiful."

Cordelia snorted derisively. "Yeah, right."

Pyrrhus leaned forward to kiss her, and she protested. "No, don't, I don't want to make you sick." He persevered, placing a gentle peck on her lips.

"Still worth it." He pulled back and reached into the bags he'd been carrying. "Look, I brought you a bunch of stuff. I got you some nice cool water," he placed a canteen on the bed, "and I've got some fruit juice," he handed her a glass bottle filled with a bright yellow liquid, "and some extra pillows I requisitioned from the quartermaster. I've also got some chicken broth cooking over the fire for your lunch." He pointed outside, in the rough direction of the mess tent. He put on a heroic face that made Cordelia smile. "Your disease is well in hand, my lady!"

Forcing back a smile, she gave a halfhearted sigh. "I can't let you spend all day tending to me. Don't you have work to do or something?"

Pyrrhus held before her a large book. "Got it right here, as it happens. _Tactics of the Twelve Days War_, been meaning to get to it for a while now. What better time to catch up on my research than today?"

Seemingly unable to come up with any more excuses, Cordelia finally relented. "Oh, alright."

Pyrrhus brushed his fingers through her hair. "Cordelia, if our places were switched, I'm pretty sure you'd be doing the same thing. I want to take care of you, is that difficult to believe?"

She shook her head. "No." She shivered a bit, which brought Pyrrhus's hand to her forehead.

"Hmm... you could use an extra blanket. Or better yet, scoot over. I'll warm you up."

"What?" Cordelia asked indignantly.

Pyrrhus narrowed his eyes. "If you scoot over, and I climb into your cot with you, my body heat will help keep you warm."

"Oh, right," she replied. She held up the blankets and Pyrrhus clambered in. The cots used by the Shepherds weren't large by any means; Pyrrhus was not a small man but the cot he was given was barely adequate for him alone. With Cordelia too, there was no way that they could both lie there together. They managed by having Pyrrhus lie on his back as far to one side as possible, while Cordelia laid almost on top of him and to the other side. By propping himself up on the extra pillows he'd brought, Pyrrhus could then see his book to read while Cordelia, head on his chest with his arm around her, could comfortably doze.

They remained in that position for several hours. Pyrrhus would later admit (only to himself) that it wasn't the most comfortable he'd ever been. The combined heat of the blankets and the sick woman on top of him was nearly stifling, and the dim light of the inside of the tent made for poor reading. He got up to tend to her soup, make her tea, and generally keep her hydrated. As the afternoon began, she spent more time awake, and they were able to chat a bit more.

"Your training seems to be coming along well," Cordelia mentioned late in the afternoon. "We'll have to work double time tomorrow to make up for this, of course."

Pyrrhus nodded, brushing his right hand through her hair. His research lay at the foot of the bed, forgotten. "I suppose it's only fair. Still, poker's tomorrow night, so if you're better I'll be attending that. I won't be able to practice too late."

She chuckled once. "I don't get it. Why do you play poker, anyway?"

Pyrrhus leaned back a bit, looking up at the seam in the upper corner of the tent. "A couple of reasons. It's not like we play for much money. Never had a pot that went over a gold piece. But it's fun, a nice way to blow off steam after a stressful march, and it helps me get to know my friends. If I'm going to send someone into battle, I should at least know him well enough that I'd miss him if he were gone."

"I never really considered that," Cordelia replied.

"It's also great practice for bluffing and learning to call bluffs," Pyrrhus added as an afterthought. "A lot of tactics involve bluffing your opponent or knowing when to call his bluff. It's not quite the same, obviously, but the instincts that I hone at the card table are viable on the battlefield."

Cordelia clucked her tongue. "And here I thought it was just a little vice! I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you have all sorts of ulterior motives."

Pyrrhus groaned. "You didn't really think I was some gambling addict, did you?"

"Of course not!" Cordelia insisted. "I was just... concerned!"

"And what's that about 'ulterior motives?'" Pyrrhus asked indignantly. "You make me sound like some sort of villainous rogue! What an image of me you must have in your head!"

"You're not allowed to be mean to me, I'm sick," Cordelia replied. "I'm pretty sure that's a rule."

Pyrrhus gave a pained sigh. "You're acting much improved, and even at your sickest you could still kill me. It's really rather unsportsmanlike to use your disease as a crutch for our disagreements." He looked forlornly away from her. "And after I spent all day trying to make you feel better."

Cordelia chuckled. "Oh, you won major points for this, today." She gave him a sly glance. "Are you sure you want to cash those in now just to win this argument?"

"On second thought, perhaps not," Pyrrhus retracted immediately.

At that moment, a voice from outside made itself known. "Cordelia, it's Sumia. Can I come in?"

The couple panicked instantly, Pyrrhus falling out of the bed and biting his fist so as to not to yell out as his ankle thumped against the foot of the cot, sending a shooting pain through his leg. He pulled himself into the chair by the bed and grabbed for his book as Cordelia replied. "Of course, Sumia, come on in!" She turned to Pyrrhus and her eyes flew open wide. She tried to make a quick hand gesture, but Pyrrhus was focused on pretending to read.

Sumia entered, a mug in her hands. "Oh, hello Pyrrhus!" She tilted her head and winced. "Umm... okay."

"What's the matter?" Pyrrhus asked nonchalantly.

"Nothing... I just... heard a bump before I came in." Her shoulders dropped. "Nevermind. Cordelia, I brought you some tea to help you feel better." Sumia walked over to the bed and handed the mug to Cordelia.

"Oh, thank you Sumia!" Cordelia replied earnestly. She took a careful sip. "It's lovely! Did you borrow leaves from Maribelle?"

"I did," Sumia said, nodding. "I'm not much good at picking out tea, and Maribelle is always helpful in sharing her expertise."

"The gesture is very appreciated, Sumia, but actually Pyrrhus has been taking care of me today."

"I can tell," Sumia muttered, stifling a smile. She carefully ran her right hand through her hair, looking at Pyrrhus conspicuously with her right eyebrow raised.

Whatever she was trying to indicate, it flew right over Pyrrhus's head. "Something wrong, Sumia?" he asked politely.

"Well, not _wrong_, but certainly not _expected_... which isn't to say it's not _unexpected_, I just didn't... nevermind." She turned back to Cordelia, who was blushing. "I'll let you two get back to whatever it is you were doing. Should I notify Chrom that you'll be well enough to rejoin the group tomorrow?"

Cordelia smiled brightly. "Of course!"

"Good. We'll talk later, then. Until then. So long, Pyrrhus."

"Good evening, Sumia."

The gray-haired pegasus knight left, very nearly tripping over the tent pole. As soon as she was gone, Cordelia raised both hands up to her mouth. "Oh, _gods_, that was _mortifying!"_

Pyrrhus looked at her with concern. "Come now, Cordelia. Surely it's not so strange that I'd be in your tent to keep you company while you're sick."

"I _don't_ think that's what she was uncomfortable about." Grimacing, she pointed at Pyrrhus's head. "Your hair, it's all... flattened out in the back. Like you were just lying in bed."

Like a flash of light, Pyrrhus suddenly realized what was going on. "She saw... and she must have assumed... oh, _gods_." He brought his hand up to massage his temples. "I am _so_ sorry, she's going to think we were... yeah."

"_That's_ going to be a fun conversation I have with her later," Cordelia said sarcastically. "I wonder what the odds are that she'll believe me."

"I could try and have a talk with her, if you'd like." The idea of a private conversation with Sumia, the woman he was responsible for killing, made his stomach churn, but he'd certainly put up with it to save Cordelia's reputation.

"No, that's okay," she said. "Wait... what's wrong?" she asked suddenly.

"Nothing."

"Why were you looking so put off about talking to Sumia?"

Pyrrhus sighed. Might as well. "Cordelia, there's something I need to tell you."

She sat up in bed. Her annoyed smile was gone, replaced with concern. "What is it? I'm listening."

Pyrrhus cleared his throat. "You recall how I've had some really odd dreams, like the one where I inadvertently kill Chrom?"

"Yeah, you told me that a few weeks ago."

"Well, recently I've had a few where I've changed drastically. I'm almost a completely different person. A cruel, broken man."

"Pyrrhus," Cordelia began, "Two nights ago I dreamed I was a pegasus, and Diomedes was on my back. They're just dreams."

"That's what I thought," Pyrrhus replied. "But that spear you gave me, he, err, I was carrying it, in my dream. _Before_ you gave it to me."

"What?"

"Last week, I talked to Lucina, and she confirmed it. The Pyrrhus that she knew was that awful man. At some point, something happens to me that twists me up inside. From what I've seen in my dreams, I get Sumia killed. In this war, probably. And I can see the consequences spiraling out from that single event. I'm Chrom's best friend, but if I got the Queen killed, he couldn't put me on the field any more. The people love Chrom and they love Sumia, they'd call for my head. Chrom would never acquiesce, but he'd have to pull me from the Shepherds. I think that could be what does it."

Cordelia took a deep breath. "Well, that explains why you wouldn't want to talk to Sumia. Have you brought this to Chrom's attention?"

"You know Chrom," Pyrrhus answered. "He'd just say that he trusts me and that he knows I wouldn't do that. Lucina says it happens in a few years, but I just have no idea how I'm supposed to stop this from happening. She doesn't know when or what exactly the cause is, so I can't use her advice to avoid it unless she can remember something else. And it is just the most awful feeling in the world that I _could_ prevent this from happening but I can't!" He looked to the ground in shame, blinking back the tears he felt at his own helplessness.

Cordelia reached over and grabbed Pyrrhus's shoulder. "Hey, calm down, Pyrrhus. We can handle this." She gave him a heartening smile. "The two of us are an _unstoppable force_, we'll figure this out."

Pyrrhus looked back up at her, at the sureness of her expression. "You really believe that." It was a statement of fact, not a question or a sarcastic quip.

Cordelia nodded. "Of course I do!" Her eyes lit up. "As a matter of fact, I already have an idea."

"You do?"

"You're going to promise me that you'll never let yourself become the man in your dream!" Cordelia insisted. Pyrrhus rolled his eyes at her, but she refused to relent. "Think about it. Would you ever break a promise that you made me?"

He looked at her, deep into her eyes. And she was right. "I would never break a promise I made to you." He took a breath. "I promise that I will never let myself become the man from my dream."

She thought for a second. "Hmm... okay, promise number two. Promise me you will never do anything stupid like run away or quit the Shepherds or get yourself killed to stop the future from happening."

"I promise," Pyrrhus repeated. He gave a weak smile. Somehow, even though it felt like an absurd way to change the future, he felt better. And, he considered, if Pierce had never had these visions, then he'd never have made those promises to Cordelia. Maybe it would make a difference, after all.

"I love you." He said it suddenly, unable to keep it a secret any longer. It was as if his mind had been holding it in like a deep breath before a dive, and had finally run out.

She took his hand in hers, sitting in bed and looking him back in the eyes. "I love you too," she said, followed by a hint of a sniffle.

"Is that your cold?" he asked.

She shook her head, tears in her eyes. "No, it's not the cold."

* * *

**A/N:** This story isn't dead! My work has just gotten busy again and I've had a lot less time to write recently. Unfortunately I'm still busy, so I won't be updating as frequently as my earlier chapters. I'll try to do better than the gap between the last chapter and this one, though. I always intended for Chapter 8 to function as a suitable conclusion for the story if this peters out, and this chapter actually could work too. This is maybe the halfway point in the story as I have it planned? Something like that.

This chapter, Pyrrhus starts putting some pieces of the puzzle together. He also finally opens up about his concerns to Cordelia, and as they say, a problem shared is a problem halved. Flamehead23a made an excellent point in his review, which led me to a lot of revising of my master plan and a major change to this chapter. I feel that it's been vastly improved as a result, so for that he has my gratitude.

Next chapter, Pyrrhus will meet a character foil. Pyrrhus and Cordelia will each decide, separately, that it's time they get close, and hijinks will ensue.


End file.
